[_Monterey, December 1879._]
TO-DAY, my dear Colvin, I send you the first part of the _Amateur
Emigrant_, 71 pp., by far the longest and the best of the whole. It is
not a monument of eloquence; indeed, I have sought to be prosaic in view
of the nature of the subject; but I almost think it is interesting.
Whatever is done about any book publication, two things remember: I
must keep a royalty; and, second, I must have all my books advertised,
in the French manner, on the leaf opposite the title. I know from my own
experience how much good this does an author with book _buyers_.
The entire _A. E._ will be a little longer than the two others, but not
very much. Here and there, I fancy, you will laugh as you read it; but
it seems to me rather a _clever_ book than anything else: the book of a
man, that is, who has paid a great deal of attention to contemporary
life, and not through the newspapers.
I have never seen my _Burns!_ the darling of my heart! I await your
promised letter. Papers, magazines, articles by friends; reviews of
myself, all would be very welcome. I am reporter for the Monterey
Californian, at a salary of two dollars a week! _Comment trouvez-vous
ca?_ I am also in a conspiracy with the American editor, a French
restaurant-man, and an Italian fisherman against the Padre. The enclosed
poster is my last literary appearance. It was put up to the number of
200 exemplaires at the witching hour; and they were almost all destroyed
by eight in the morning. But I think the nickname will stick. _Dos
Reales; deux reaux_; two bits; twenty-five cents; about a shilling; but
in practice it is worth from ninepence to threepence: thus two glasses
of beer would cost two bits. The Italian fisherman, an old Garibaldian,
is a splendid fellow.