to Charles Baxter

SS. ‘Lübeck,’ at sea [on the return voyage from Sydney, March 1891].

MY DEAR CHARLES,—Perhaps in my old days I do grow irascible; ‘the old man virulent’ has long been my pet name for myself.  Well, the temper is at least all gone now; time is good at lowering these distemperatures; far better is a sharp sickness, and I am just (and scarce) afoot again after a smoking hot little malady at Sydney.  And the temper being gone, I still think the same. . . .  We have not our parents for ever; we are never very good to them; when they go and we have lost our front-file man, we begin to feel all our neglects mighty sensibly.  I propose a proposal.  My mother is here on board with me; to-day for once I mean to make her as happy as I am able, and to do that which I know she likes.  You, on the other hand, go and see your father, and do ditto, and give him a real good hour or two.  We shall both be glad hereafter.—Yours ever,

R. L. S.