The projected visit to his Russian friend in Poland did not come off,
and shortly after the preceding letter Stevenson went for a few days'
walking tour in the Chiltern Hills of Buckinghamshire, as recorded in
his essay _An Autumn Effect_. He then came on for a visit to London.
[_London, November 1874._]
When I left you I found an organ-grinder in Russell Square playing to a
child; and the simple fact that there was a child listening to him, that
he was giving this pleasure, entitled him, according to my theory, as
you know, to some money; so I put some coppers on the ledge of his
organ, without so much as looking at him, and I was going on when a
woman said to me: "Yes, sir, he do look bad, don't he? scarcely fit like
to be working." And then I looked at the man, and O! he was so ill, so
yellow and heavy-eyed and drooping. I did not like to go back somehow,
and so I gave the woman a shilling and asked her to give it to him for
me. I saw her do so and walked on; but the face followed me, and so when
I had got to the end of the division, I turned and came back as hard as
I could and filled his hand with money--ten to thirteen shillings, I
should think. I was sure he was going to be ill, you know, and he was a
young man; and I dare say he was alone, and had no one to love him.
I had my reward; for a few yards farther on, here was another
organ-grinder playing a dance tune, and perhaps a dozen children all
dancing merrily to his music, singly, and by twos and threes, and in
pretty little figures together. Just what my organ-grinder in my story
wanted to have happen to him! It was so gay and pleasant in the twilight
under the street lamp.
I am very well, have eaten well, and am so sleepy I can write no more.
This I write to let you know I am no worse; all the better.--Ever your
faithful friend,