TŌKYŌ, February, 1899.
DEAR McDONALD,--Now don't give yourself all that trouble about coming up
to Tōkyō. It would have been an ugly trip for you last Saturday or
Sunday, anyhow: wait till the fine days, and till you don't know what
else to do. I think I shall see you before you go to the U. S. anyhow,
in Tōkyō; but I don't think you will be able to manage the trip
very often. If I telegraph, "Dying--quick--murder:" then I know that you
will even quit your dinner and come;--isn't that pleasant to be sure of?
I was thinking the other day to ask you if you ever knew my dead
friend,--W. D. O'Connor (U. S. Signal Service), Washington. He was very
fond of me in his way--got me my first introduction to the Harpers. I
believe that he died of overwork. I have his portrait. He was Whitman's
great friend. Thinking about him and you together, I was wondering how
much nationality has to do with these friendships. Is it only Irish or
Latin people who make friends for friendship's sake? Or is it that I am
getting old--and that, as Balzac says, men do not make friends after
forty-eight? Coming to think of old times, I believe a man is better off
in a very humble position, with a very small salary. He has everything
then more or less trustworthy and real in his surroundings. Give him
a thousand dollars a month, and he must live in a theatre, and never
presume to take off his mask.
No, dear friend, I don't want _your_ book. I should not feel comfortable
with it in hand: I cannot comfortably read a book belonging to another
person, because I feel all the time afraid of spoiling it. I feel
restrained, and therefore uncomfortable. Besides, _your_ book is where
it ought to be doing the most good. Nay! I shall wait even until the
crack of doom, rather than take your book.
There is to be a mail sometime next week, I suppose. Ought to come
to-day--but the _City of Rio de Janeiro_ is not likely to fly in
a blizzard, except downward. If she has my book on board she will
certainly sink.
By the way, you did not know that I am fatal to ships. Every ship
on which I journey gets into trouble. Went to America in a steamer
that foundered. Came to Japan upon another that went to destruction.
Travelled upon a half-dozen Japanese steamers,--every one of which was
subsequently lost. Even lake-boats do not escape me. The last on which I
journeyed turned over, and drowned everybody on board,--only twenty feet
from shore. It was I who ran the _Belgic_ on land. The only ship that I
could not wreck was the _Saikyō-Maru_, but she went to the Yalu on
the next trip after I had been aboard of her,--and got tolerably well
smashed up; so I had satisfaction out of her anyhow. If ever I voyage
on the Empress boats, there will be a catastrophe. Therefore I fear
exceedingly for the _Rio de Janeiro_; she is not strong enough to bear
the presence of that book in a typhoon.
Affectionately,
LAFCADIO.