Читать книгу Arthur Conan Doyle: A Life in Letters - Daniel Stashower, Исмаил Шихлы - Страница 122

On receipt of your letter I pulled on a decent pair of trousers, sprang into a surtout, rushed up to Broad Street and fell upon Gamgee’s neck, saying ‘Behold your long lost visitor’—at least I would have, only he was out and so was his better half, so I performed a Can-Can of delight on the doorstep and left my cards to the astonished slavey. Its his turn now, thank the Lord. Why don’t you write? You have no excuse. I have no news to give & thats my reason. We are working away night and day in our usual humdrum style, and as happy and cheerful as sandboys. I am grinding too as well as the work will permit; I think I will run down to Budd’s somewhere about March and have a good read there before I come home. He has a lot of notes and things which I can get nowhere else.

No word from London Society yet. I suppose a magazine of that calibre is above bilking one. I am much pleased by what you say of Blackwood. I always thought that was a good story.* I am going to write a case for the British Medical. I will tell you when it appears.

You are right about the suit. I can pull along nicely without but why don’t you send the collars and skates. My gloves are worn out but I can hardly afford another pair just now. I have only £3/6 in the bank. My trip to Herefordshire cost me money & I have had other expenses.

The Doctor and I are teatotal up to the 28^th of this month. I don’t sleep quite so well but I am fresher in the mornings. He is as good a fellow as ever & Mrs Hoare is charming. Hoare is the only man I ever met who has no fault in his character—a plain straightforward jolly fellow without pride, affectation or anything else. A difficult man to abuse as Johnson said of Reynolds.

Yes, Horton is a real right-down good fellow. His heart is broad and kind and generous. There is nothing petty in the man. He loves to see those around him happy; and the sight of his sturdy figure and jolly red face goes far to make them so. Nature meant him to be a healer; for he brightens up a sick room as he did the Merton station when first I set eyes upon him.

—The Stark Munro Letters