_Saranac Lake_, _New York_ [_December_ 19, 1887].
DEAR MISS MONROE,—Many thanks for your letter and your good wishes. It
was much my desire to get to Chicago: had I done—or if I yet do—so, I
shall hope to see the original of my photograph, which is one of my show
possessions; but the fates are rather contrary. My wife is far from
well; I myself dread worse than almost any other imaginable peril, that
miraculous and really insane invention the American Railroad Car. Heaven
help the man—may I add the woman—that sets foot in one! Ah, if it were
only an ocean to cross, it would be a matter of small thought to me—and
great pleasure. But the railroad car—every man has his weak point; and I
fear the railroad car as abjectly as I do an earwig, and, on the whole,
on better grounds. You do not know how bitter it is to have to make such
a confession; for you have not the pretension nor the weakness of a man.
If I do get to Chicago, you will hear of me: so much can be said. And do
you never come east?
I was pleased to recognise a word of my poor old Deacon in your letter.
It would interest me very much to hear how it went and what you thought
of piece and actors; and my collaborator, who knows and respects the
photograph, would be pleased too.—Still in the hope of seeing you, I am,
yours very truly,