to Mrs. T. Stevenson

[Chalet am Stein, Davos, April 9, 1882.]

MY DEAR MOTHER,—Herewith please find belated birthday present.  Fanny has another.

My dear mother, how can I keep up with your breathless changes?   Innerleithen, Cramond, Bridge of Allan, Dunblane, Selkirk.  I lean to Cramond, but I shall be pleased anywhere, any respite from Davos; never mind, it has been a good, though a dear lesson.  Now, with my improved health, if I can pass the summer, I believe I shall be able no more to exceed, no more to draw on you.  It is time I sufficed for myself indeed.  And I believe I can.

I am still far from satisfied about Fanny; she is certainly better, but it is by fits a good deal, and the symptoms continue, which should not be.  I had her persuaded to leave without me this very day (Saturday 8th), but the disclosure of my mismanagement broke up that plan; she would not leave me lest I should mismanage more.  I think this an unfair revenge; but I have been so bothered that I cannot struggle.  All Davos has been drinking our wine.  During the month of March, three litres a day were drunk—O it is too sickening—and that is only a specimen.  It is enough to make any one a misanthrope, but the right thing is to hate the donkey that was duped—which I devoutly do.

I have this winter finished Treasure Island, written the preface to the Studies, a small book about the Inland Voyage size, The Silverado Squatters, and over and above that upwards of ninety (90) Cornhill pages of magazine work.  No man can say I have been idle.—Your affectionate son,

R. L. Stevenson.