_Kinnaird Cottage, Pitlochry [July 1881]._
MY DEAR COLVIN,--I do believe I am better, mind and body; I am tired
just now, for I have just been up the burn with Wogg, daily growing
better and boo'f'ler; so do not judge my state by my style in this. I am
working steady, four Cornhill pages scrolled every day, besides the
correspondence about this chair, which is heavy in itself. My first
story, _Thrawn Janet_, all in Scotch, is accepted by Stephen; my second,
_The Body Snatchers_, is laid aside in a justifiable disgust, the tale
being horrid; my third, _The Merry Men_, I am more than half through,
and think real well of. It is a fantastic sonata about the sea and
wrecks; and I like it much above all my other attempts at story-telling;
I think it is strange; if ever I shall make a hit, I have the line now,
as I believe.
Fanny has finished one of hers, _The Shadow on the Bed_, and is now
hammering at a second, for which we have "no name" as yet--not by Wilkie
Collins.
_Tales for Winter Nights._ Yes, that, I think, we will call the lot of
them when republished.
Why have you not sent me a testimonial? Everybody else but you has
responded, and Symonds, but I'm afraid he's ill. Do think, too, if
anybody else would write me a testimonial. I am told quantity goes far.
I have good ones from Rev. Professor Campbell, Professor Meiklejohn,
Leslie Stephen, Lang, Gosse, and a very shaky one from Hamerton.
Grant is an elector, so can't, but has written me kindly. From Tulloch I
have not yet heard. Do help me with suggestions. This old chair, with
its L250 and its light work, would make me.
It looks as if we should take Cater's chalet[39] after all; but O! to go
back to that place, it seems cruel. I have not yet received the Landor;
but it may be at home, detained by my mother, who returns to-morrow.
Believe me, dear Colvin, ever yours,