is quite a love affair - for me; and Mr. Wiltshire (the
narrator) is a huge lark, though I say it. But there is
always the exotic question, and everything, the life, the
place, the dialects - trader's talk, which is a strange
conglomerate of literary expressions and English and American
slang, and Beach de Mar, or native English, - the very trades
and hopes and fears of the characters, are all novel, and may
be found unwelcome to that great, hulking, bullering whale,
the public.

Since I wrote, I have been likewise drawing up a document to
send it to the President; it has been dreadfully delayed, not
by me, but to-day they swear it will be sent in. A list of
questions about the dynamite report are herein laid before
him, and considerations suggested why he should answer.


OCTOBER 5TH.


Ever since my last snatch I have been much chivied about over
the President business; his answer has come, and is an
evasion accompanied with schoolboy insolence, and we are
going to try to answer it. I drew my answer and took it down
yesterday; but one of the signatories wants another paragraph
added, which I have not yet been able to draw, and as to the
wisdom of which I am not yet convinced.


NEXT DAY, OCT. 7TH, THE RIGHT DAY.