to Sidney Colvin

On board ss. ‘Devonia,’ an hour or two out of New York
[August 1879].

MY DEAR COLVIN,—I have finished my story. [144]  The handwriting is not good because of the ship’s misconduct: thirty-one pages in ten days at sea is not bad.

I shall write a general procuration about this story on another bit of paper.  I am not very well; bad food, bad air, and hard work have brought me down.  But the spirits keep good.  The voyage has been most interesting, and will make, if not a series of Pall Mall articles, at least the first part of a new book.  The last weight on me has been trying to keep notes for this purpose.  Indeed, I have worked like a horse, and am now as tired as a donkey.  If I should have to push on far by rail, I shall bring nothing but my fine bones to port.

Good-bye to you all.  I suppose it is now late afternoon with you and all across the seas.  What shall I find over there?  I dare not wonder.—Ever yours,

R. L. S.

P.S.—I go on my way to-night, if I can; if not, to-morrow: emigrant train ten to fourteen days’ journey; warranted extreme discomfort.  The only American institution which has yet won my respect is the rain.  One sees it is a new country, they are so free with their water.  I have been steadily drenched for twenty-four hours; water-proof wet through; immortal spirit fitfully blinking up in spite.  Bought a copy of my own work, and the man said ‘by Stevenson.’—‘Indeed,’ says I.—‘Yes, sir,’ says he.—Scene closes.