to E. L. Burlingame

Vailima, Summer 1892.

MY DEAR BURLINGAME,—First of all, you have all the corrections on ‘The Wrecker.’  I found I had made what I meant and forgotten it, and was so careless as not to tell you.

Second, of course, and by all means, charge corrections on the Samoa book to me; but there are not near so many as I feared.  The Lord hath dealt bountifully with me, and I believe all my advisers were amazed to see how nearly correct I had got the truck, at least I was.  With this you will receive the whole revise and a typewritten copy of the last chapter.  And the thing now is Speed, to catch a possible revision of the treaty.  I believe Cassells are to bring it out, but Baxter knows, and the thing has to be crammed through prestissimo, à la chasseur.

You mention the belated Barbeys; what about the equally belated Pineros?  And I hope you will keep your bookshop alive to supplying me continuously with the Saga Library.  I cannot get enough of Sagas; I wish there were nine thousand; talk about realism!

All seems to flourish with you; I also prosper; none the less for being quit of that abhorred task, Samoa.  I could give a supper party here were there any one to sup.  Never was such a disagreeable task, but the thing had to be told. . . .

There, I trust I am done with this cursed chapter of my career, bar the rotten eggs and broken bottles that may follow, of course.  Pray remember, speed is now all that can be asked, hoped, or wished.  I give up all hope of proofs, revises, proof of the map, or sic like; and you on your side will try to get it out as reasonably seemly as may be.

Whole Samoa book herewith.  Glory be to God.—Yours very sincerely,

Robert Louis Stevenson.