_[Menton, January 29, 1874], Thursday._
_Marot_ vol. 1 arrived. The post has been at its old games. A letter of
the 31st and one of the 2nd arrive at the same moment.
I have had a great pleasure. Mrs. Andrews had a book of Scotch airs,
which I brought over here, and set Madame Z. to work upon. They are so
like Russian airs that they cannot contain their astonishment. I was
quite out of my mind with delight. "The Flowers of the Forest"--"Auld
Lang Syne"--"Scots wha hae"--"Wandering Willie"--"Jock o'
Hazeldean"--"My Boy Tammie," which my father whistles so often--I had no
conception how much I loved them. The air which pleased Madame Zassetsky
the most was "Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin yet?" It is certainly no
end. And I was so proud that they were appreciated. No triumph of my
own, I am sure, could ever give me such vain-glorious satisfaction. You
remember, perhaps, how conceited I was to find "Auld Lang Syne" popular
in its German dress; but even that was nothing to the pleasure I had
yesterday at the success of our dear airs.
The edition is called _The Songs of Scotland without Words for the
Pianoforte_, edited by J. T. Surenne, published by Wood in George
Street. As these people have been so kind to me, I wish you would get a
copy of this and send it out. If that should be too dear, or anything,
Mr. Mowbray would be able to tell you what is the best substitute, would
he not? _This_ I really would like you to do, as Madame proposes to hire
a copyist to copy those she likes, and so it is evident she wants
them.--Ever your affectionate son,