_Saranac_, 12_th_ _December_ ’87.
Give us news of all your folk. A Merry Christmas from all of us.
MY DEAR CHARLES,—Will you please send £20 to — for a Christmas gift from
—? Moreover, I cannot remember what I told you to send to —; but as God
has dealt so providentially with me this year, I now propose to make it
£20.
I beg of you also to consider my strange position. I jined a club which
it was said was to defend the Union; and had a letter from the secretary,
which his name I believe was Lord Warmingpan (or words to that effect),
to say I am elected, and had better pay up a certain sum of money, I
forget what. Now I cannae verra weel draw a blank cheque and send to—
LORD WARMINGPAN (or words to that effect),
London, England.
And, man, if it was possible, I would be dooms glad to be out o’ this bit
scrapie. Mebbe the club was ca’d ‘The Union,’ but I wouldnae like to
sweir; and mebbe it wasnae, or mebbe only words to that effec’—but I
wouldnae care just exac’ly about sweirin’. Do ye no think Henley, or
Pollick, or some o’ they London fellies, micht mebbe perhaps find out for
me? and just what the soom was? And that you would aiblins pay for me?
For I thocht I was sae dam patriotic jinin’, and it would be a kind o’ a
come-doun to be turned out again. Mebbe Lang would ken; or mebbe Rider
Haggyard: they’re kind o’ Union folks. But it’s my belief his name was
Warmingpan whatever. Yours,
THOMSON,
_alias_ ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.