to W. H. Low

Skerryvore, Bournemouth, Jan. Somethingorother-th, 1886.

MY DEAR LOW,—I send you two photographs: they are both done by Sir Percy Shelley, the poet’s son, which may interest.  The sitting down one is, I think, the best; but if they choose that, see that the little reflected light on the nose does not give me a turn-up; that would be tragic.  Don’t forget ‘Baronet’ to Sir Percy’s name.

We all think a heap of your book; and I am well pleased with my dedication.—Yours ever,

R. L. Stevenson.

P.S.—Apropos of the odd controversy about Shelley’s nose: I have before me four photographs of myself, done by Shelley’s son: my nose is hooked, not like the eagle, indeed, but like the accipitrine family in man: well, out of these four, only one marks the bend, one makes it straight, and one suggests a turn-up.  This throws a flood of light on calumnious man—and the scandal-mongering sun.  For personally I cling to my curve.  To continue the Shelley controversy: I have a look of him, all his sisters had noses like mine; Sir Percy has a marked hook; all the family had high cheek-bones like mine; what doubt, then, but that this turn-up (of which Jeaffreson accuses the poet, along with much other fatras) is the result of some accident similar to what has happened in my photographs by his son?

R. L. S.