_Vailima_, _Samoa_, _May_ 29_th_, 1893
MY DEAR GOD-LIKE SCULPTOR,—I wish in the most delicate manner in the
world to insinuate a few commissions:—
No. 1. Is for a couple of copies of my medallion, as gilt-edged and
high-toned as it is possible to make them. One is for our house here,
and should be addressed as above. The other is for my friend Sidney
Colvin, and should be addressed—Sidney Colvin, Esq., Keeper of the Print
Room, British Museum, London.
No. 2. This is a rather large order, and demands some explanation. Our
house is lined with varnished wood of a dark ruddy colour, very beautiful
to see; at the same time, it calls very much for gold; there is a limit
to picture frames, and really you know there has to be a limit to the
pictures you put inside of them. Accordingly, we have had an idea of a
certain kind of decoration, which, I think, you might help us to make
practical. What we want is an alphabet of gilt letters (very much such
as people play with), and all mounted on spikes like drawing-pins; say
two spikes to each letter, one at top, and one at bottom. Say that they
were this height, [Picture: large letter capital I about 4 times bigger
than normal size] and that you chose a model of some really exquisitely
fine, clear type from some Roman monument, and that they were made either
of metal or some composition gilt—the point is, could not you, in your
land of wooden houses, get a manufacturer to take the idea and
manufacture them at a venture, so that I could get two or three hundred
pieces or so at a moderate figure? You see, suppose you entertain an
honoured guest, when he goes he leaves his name in gilt letters on your
walls; an infinity of fun and decoration can be got out of hospitable and
festive mottoes; and the doors of every room can be beautified by the
legend of their names. I really think there is something in the idea,
and you might be able to push it with the brutal and licentious
manufacturer, using my name if necessary, though I should think the name
of the god-like sculptor would be more germane. In case you should get
it started, I should tell you that we should require commas in order to
write the Samoan language, which is full of words written thus: la’u,
ti’e ti’e. As the Samoan language uses but a very small proportion of
the consonants, we should require a double or treble stock of all vowels
and of F, G, L, U, N, P, S, T, and V.
The other day in Sydney, I think you might be interested to hear, I was
sculpt a second time by a man called —, as well as I can remember and
read. I mustn’t criticise a present, and he had very little time to do
it in. It is thought by my family to be an excellent likeness of Mark
Twain. This poor fellow, by the by, met with the devil of an accident.
A model of a statue which he had just finished with a desperate effort
was smashed to smithereens on its way to exhibition.
Please be sure and let me know if anything is likely to come of this
letter business, and the exact cost of each letter, so that I may count
the cost before ordering.—Yours sincerely,