to E. L. Burlingame

[Vailima] Jan. 2nd, ’92.

MY DEAR BURLINGAME,—Overjoyed you were pleased with Wrecker, and shall consider your protests.  There is perhaps more art than you think for in the peccant chapter, where I have succeeded in packing into one a dedication, an explanation, and a termination.  Surely you had not recognised the phrase about boodle?  It was a quotation from Jim Pinkerton, and seemed to me agreeably skittish.  However, all shall be prayerfully considered.

To come to a more painful subject.  Herewith go three more chapters of the wretched History; as you see, I approach the climax.  I expect the book to be some 70,000 words, of which you have now 45.  Can I finish it for next mail?  I am going to try!  ’Tis a long piece of journalism, and full of difficulties here and there, of this kind and that, and will make me a power of friends to be sure.  There is one Becker who will probably put up a window to me in the church where he was baptized; and I expect a testimonial from Captain Hand.

Sorry to let the mail go without the Scott; this has been a bad month with me, and I have been below myself.  I shall find a way to have it come by next, or know the reason why.  The mail after, anyway.

A bit of a sketch map appears to me necessary for my History; perhaps two.  If I do not have any, ’tis impossible any one should follow; and I, even when not at all interested, demand that I shall be able to follow; even a tourist book without a map is a cross to me; and there must be others of my way of thinking.  I inclose the very artless one that I think needful.  Vailima, in case you are curious, is about as far again behind Tanugamanono as that is from the sea.

M‘Clure is publishing a short story of mine, some 50,000 words, I think, The Beach of Falesà; when he’s done with it, I want you and Cassell to bring it out in a little volume; I shall send you a dedication for it; I believe it good; indeed, to be honest, very good.  Good gear that pleases the merchant.

The other map that I half threaten is a chart for the hurricane.  Get me Kimberley’s report of the hurricane: not to be found here.  It is of most importance; I must have it with my proofs of that part, if I cannot have it earlier, which now seems impossible.—Yours in hot haste,

R. L. Stevenson.