THURSDAY. - My head and eyes both gave in this morning, and I had
to take a day of complete idleness. I was in the open air all day,
and did no thought that I could avoid, and I think I have got my
head between my shoulders again; however, I am not going to do
much. I don't want you to run away with any fancy about my being
ill. Given a person weak and in some trouble, and working longer
hours than he is used to, and you have the matter in a nutshell.
You should have seen the sunshine on the hill to-day; it has lost
now that crystalline clearness, as if the medium were spring-water
(you see, I am stupid!); but it retains that wonderful thinness of
outline that makes the delicate shape and hue savour better in
one's mouth, like fine wine out of a finely-blown glass. The birds
are all silent now but the crows. I sat a long time on the stairs
that lead down to Duddingston Loch - a place as busy as a great
town during frost, but now solitary and silent; and when I shut my
eyes I heard nothing but the wind in the trees; and you know all
that went through me, I dare say, without my saying it.

II. - I am now all right. I do not expect any tic to-night, and
shall be at work again to-morrow. I have had a day of open air,
only a little modified by LE CAPITAINE FRACASSE before the dining-
room fire. I must write no more, for I am sleepy after two nights,
and to quote my book, 'SINON BLANCHES, DU MOINS GRISES'; and so I
must go to bed and faithfully, hoggishly slumber. - Your faithful

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.



Letter: TO MRS. THOMAS STEVENSON