were about the same. He had begun to plan for his return, and
concerning amusements at Stormfield for the entertainment of the
neighbors, and for the benefit of the library which he had founded
soon after his arrival in Redding. In these letters he seldom
mentioned the angina pains that had tortured him earlier. But once,
when he sent a small photograph of himself, it seemed to us that his
face had become thin and that he had suffered. Certainly his next
letter was not reassuring.


To A. B. Paine, in Redding:

DEAR PAINE,--We must look into the magic-lantern business. Maybe the
modern lantern is too elaborate and troublesome for back-settlement use,
but we can inquire. We must have some kind of a show at "Stormfield" to
entertain the countryside with.

We are booked to sail in the "Bermudian" April 23rd, but don't tell
anybody, I don't want it known. I may have to go sooner if the pain in
my breast doesn't mend its ways pretty considerably. I don't want to die
here for this is an unkind place for a person in that condition. I
should have to lie in the undertaker's cellar until the ship would remove
me and it is dark down there and unpleasant.

The Colliers will meet me on the pier and I may stay with them a week or
two before going home. It all depends on the breast pain--I don't want
to die there. I am growing more and more particular about the place.
With love,
S. L. C.