Adventures and Letters
waiting until I get on the boat where I shall not be disturbed-- Then I shall write you
again-- It was awfully good of you, and I am so pleased to have it to give away. I never
had anything to show people when they asked for one of your other books and this comes
in such an unquestionable form-- With lots of love.
NEW YORK, 1893.
I got your nice letter and one from Dad. Both calling me many adjectives pleasing to hear
although they do not happen to fit. So you are in a third edition are you? These YOUNG
writers are crowding me to the wall. I feel thrills of pride when I see us sitting cheek by
jowl on the news-stands. Lots of love.
In February, 1894, Richard was forced by a severe attack of sciatica to give up
temporarily the gayeties of New York and for a cure he naturally chose our home in
Philadelphia, where he remained for many weeks. Although unable to leave his bed, he
continued to do a considerable amount of work, including the novelette "The Princess
Aline," in the writing of which I believe my brother took more pleasure than in that of
any story or novel he ever wrote. The future Empress of Russia was the heroine of the
tale, and that she eventually read the story and was apparently delighted with it caused
Richard much human happiness.
I am getting rapidly better owing to regular hours and light literature and home comforts.
I am not blue as I was and my morbidness has gone and I only get depressed at times. I
am still however feeling tired and I think I will take quite a rest before I venture across
the seas. But across them I will come no matter if all the nerves on earth jump and pull.
Still, I think it wiser for all concerned that I get thoroughly well so that when I do come I
won't have to be cutting back home again as I did last time. We are young yet and the
world's wide and there's a new farce comedy written every minute and I have a great
many things to do myself so I intend to get strong and then do them. I enclose two poems.
I am going to have them printed for my particular pals later. I am writing one to all of you
folks over there.
TAKE ME BACK TO BROADWAY, WHERE
THE ORCHIDS GROW
WITH APOLOGIES TO THE WESTERN DIALECT POETS