I have a letter from * * *, who is in St. Louis, to which his progress
has been more leisurely than I liked, considering that I am remaining
away from my mountains only to meet him. However, he intimates an
intention to come in a week. I wish you were with him.
I am sending the W. of W. to Scribner's, as you suggest, and if it is
not taken shall try the other mags in the order of your preference.
But it's funny that you--_you_--should prefer the "popular" magazines
and wish the work "illustrated." Be assured the illustrations will
shock you if you get them.
* * * * *
I understand what you say about being bored by the persons whom your
work in letters brings about your feet. The most _contented_ years of
my life lately were the two or three that I passed here before
Washington folk found out that I was an author. The fact has leaked
out, and although not a soul of them buys and reads my books some of
them bore me insupportably with their ignorant compliments and
unwelcome attentions. I fancy I'll have to "move on."
Tell Maid Marian to use gloves when modeling, or the clay will enter
into her soul through her fingers and she become herself a Shape of
Clay. My notion is that she should work in a paste made of
ashes-of-roses moistened with nectar.
* * * * *
Sincerely yours,
AMBROSE BIERCE.
P.S. Does it bore you that I like you to know my friends? Professor
* * *'s widow (and daughter) are very dear to me. She knows about you,
and I've written her that I'd ask you to call on her. You'll like them
all right, but I have another purpose. I want to know how they
prosper; and they are a little reticent about that. Maybe you could
ascertain indirectly by seeing how they live. I asked Grizzly to do
this but of course he didn't, the shaggy brute that he is.