[_Saranac_, _Spring_ 1888?]
MY DEAR ARCHER,—It happened thus. I came forth from that performance in
a breathing heat of indignation. (Mind, at this distance of time and
with my increased knowledge, I admit there is a problem in the piece; but
I saw none then, except a problem in brutality; and I still consider the
problem in that case not established.) On my way down the _Français_
stairs, I trod on an old gentleman’s toes, whereupon with that suavity
that so well becomes me, I turned about to apologise, and on the instant,
repenting me of that intention, stopped the apology midway, and added
something in French to this effect: No, you are one of the _lâches_ who
have been applauding that piece. I retract my apology. Said the old
Frenchman, laying his hand on my arm, and with a smile that was truly
heavenly in temperance, irony, good-nature, and knowledge of the world,
‘Ah, monsieur, vous êtes bien jeune!’—Yours very truly,