to Miss Monroe

Saranac Lake, New York [December 19, 1887].

DEAR MISS MONROE,—Many thanks for your letter and your good wishes.  It was much my desire to get to Chicago: had I done—or if I yet do—so, I shall hope to see the original of my photograph, which is one of my show possessions; but the fates are rather contrary.  My wife is far from well; I myself dread worse than almost any other imaginable peril, that miraculous and really insane invention the American Railroad Car.  Heaven help the man—may I add the woman—that sets foot in one!  Ah, if it were only an ocean to cross, it would be a matter of small thought to me—and great pleasure.  But the railroad car—every man has his weak point; and I fear the railroad car as abjectly as I do an earwig, and, on the whole, on better grounds.  You do not know how bitter it is to have to make such a confession; for you have not the pretension nor the weakness of a man.  If I do get to Chicago, you will hear of me: so much can be said.  And do you never come east?

I was pleased to recognise a word of my poor old Deacon in your letter.  It would interest me very much to hear how it went and what you thought of piece and actors; and my collaborator, who knows and respects the photograph, would be pleased too.—Still in the hope of seeing you, I am, yours very truly,

Robert Louis Stevenson.