"Bottles in the Sea," "Witches in Eggsh.e.l.ls," "Elephants in Abyssinia," etc.

And (a dear project) a book of stories, chiefly about Flowers and Natural History a.s.sociations (_not scientific, pure fiction_),

"The Floating Gardens of Ancient Mexico," the "Dutch Story,"

"Immortelles," "Mummy Peas," etc., etc. (none even planned yet!)...

To H.K.F.G.

[Undated, _Fredericton_.]

... How well I know what you say about the truth of Mother's sayings of the soothing effects of Nature! I used to feel it about gardening also so much. Visions of three yellow, three white, and three purple crocuses blooming in one pot beguile the mind from less happy fancies--perhaps too the _largeness_ and _universality_ of Nature disperse the selfishness of personal cares and worries. Then I think the smell of _earth_ and _plants_ has a physical anodyne about it somehow! One cannot explain it....

TO MRS. GATTY.

_Fredericton, N.B._ 5th Sunday after Trinity, 1869.

... We have another "dogue."... _Trouve_ is the name of Hector's successor. 'Cos for why, we found him locked up in one of the barrack rooms, when I was with Rex on one of his inspections. He is a "left behind" either of the 1st Battalion 22nd, or the 4th Battalion 60th Rifles, we do not know which. He has utterly taken to us, and is especially fond of me I think. He is a big, black fellow, between a Newfoundland and a retriever. In the "Sweep" line, but not so big. He is wonderfully graceful and well-mannered (barring a trifling incident yesterday, when he got into my little cupboard, ate about two pounds of cheese and all the rolls, and _snuffed_ the b.u.t.ter). And another trifling occurrence to-day. We chained him to the sofa, which, during our absence, he _dragged_ (exactly as the dogs dragged _Mons. Jabot's bed_) across the room, upset the ink on to the carpet, threw my photo-book down by it, and established himself in Rex's arm-chair. It was most ludicrous, for the other day he slipped his collar, and _chose the sofa_ to lie on, but because he was tied to the sofa, with full permission to use it, he chose the chair! and must nearly have lugged his own head off. He does wonderfully little damage with his pranks; there were wine-gla.s.ses, bottles, pickles, &c., in the cupboard when he got the cheese; but he extracted his supper as daintily as a cat, and not a thing was upset! Oddly enough, when we are with him, he never thinks of getting into cushions and chairs like that blessed old sybarite the Bull-dogue. But if we leave him tied up, he plays old gooseberry with the furniture. I had been fearing it would be rather a practical difficulty in the way of his adoption, the question of where he should sleep; but he solved it for himself. He walks up-stairs after us, flops on to the floor, gives two or three sighs, and goes gracefully to sleep.... I wish you could have seen him lying in perverse dignity in the arm-chair, with the sofa attached to the end of his chain like a locket!!!

To H.K.F.G.

12th Sunday after Trinity.

_Fredericton, N.B._ August 16, 1869.

... We had a great scene with Peter yesterday. Rex has two guns, you must know--a rifle, and an old fowling-piece--good enough in its way, but awfully _old-fashioned_ (not a breech-loader), and he determined to make old Peter a present of this, for he is a good old fellow, and does not _cheat_ one, and we had resolved to give him something, and we knew this would delight him. I wish you _could_ have seen him. He burst out laughing, and laughed at intervals from pure pleasure, and went away with it laughing. But with the childlike _enjoyment_ (which negroes have also), the Indians have a power and grace in "expressing their sentiments" on such an occasion which far exceeds the attempts of our "poor people," and is most dignified. His first _speech_ was an emphatic (and _always slow_) "_Too_ good! Too much!" and when Rex a.s.sured him it was very old, not worth anything, etc., etc., he hastily interrupted him with a _thoroughly_ gentlemanlike air, almost Grandisonian, "Oh! oh! as good as new to me. Quite as good as new."

They were like two Easterns! For not to be outdone in courtesy, Rex warned him not to put too large charges of powder for fear the barrel should burst--being so old. A caution which I believe to be totally unnecessary, and a mere hyperbole of depreciation--as Peter seemed perfectly to understand! He told me it was "The first present I ever receive from a gentleman. Well--well--I never forget it, the longest day I live." The graceful candour with which he said, "I am very thankful to you," was quite pretty.

TO MRS. GATTY.

[_Aldershot._] February 23, 1870.

MY DARLING MOTHER,

I was by no means sensible of your iniquities in not acknowledging my poor Neck,[35] for I had entirely forgotten his very existence! Only I was thinking it was a long time since I heard from you--and hoping you were not ill. I am _very_ glad you like the Legend--I was doubtful, and rather anxious to hear till I forgot all about it. The "Necks" are Scandinavian in locality, and that desire for immortal life which is their distinguishing characteristic is very touching. There is one lovely little (real) Legend in Keightley. The bairns of a Pastor play with a Neck one day, and falling into disputes they taunt him that he will never be saved--on which he flings away his harp and weeps bitterly. When the boys tell their father he reproves them for their want of charity, and sends them back to unsay what they had said. So they run back and say, "Dear Neck, do not grieve so; for our father says that your Redeemer liveth also," on which the Neck was filled with joy, and sat on a wave and played till the sun went down. He appeared like a boy with long fair hair and a red cap. They also appear in the form of a little old man wringing out his beard into the water. I ventured to give my Neck both shapes according to his age. All the rest is _de moi-meme_....

[Footnote 35: The Neck in "Old-fashioned Fairy Tales."]

[_Aldershot._] March 22, 1870.

MY DARLING MOTHER,

I am so very much pleased that you think better of Benjy[36] now. As I have plenty of time, I mean to go through it, and soften Benjy down a bit. He is an awful boy, and I think I can make him less repulsive.

The fact is the story was written _in fragments_, and I was anxious to show that it was not a little boyish roughness that I meant to make a fuss and "point a moral" about--nor did I want to go into fine-drawn questions about the cruelties of sport, and when I came to join the bits into a whole and copy out, I found I had overproved my point and made Benjy a _fearful_ brute. But there _are_ some hideously cruel boys, and I do think a certain devilish type of cruelty is generally combined with a certain _lowness_ and _meanness_ of general style--even in born gentlemen--and though quite curable, I would like to hear what the boys think of it, if it would not bore them to read it. But I certainly shall soften Benjy down--and will attend to all your hints--and put in the "Mare's Nest" (many thanks!). Tell D. I do not know how I could alter about Rough--unless I take out his death altogether--but beg her to observe that he was not the least neglected as to food, etc.; what he died of was joy after his anxiety....

[Footnote 36: Included in "Lob Lie-by-the-Fire, and other Tales," vol.

vii.]

[_Aldershot._] May Day, 1870.

... I have got some work into my head which has been long seething there, and will, I think, begin to take shape. It is about _flowers_--the ancestry of flowers; whether the flowers will tell their own family records, or what the _plot_ will be I have not yet planned, and it will take me some time to collect my data, but the family histories of flowers which came originally from old Mexico in the days of Montezuma, and the floating gardens, and the warriors who wore nosegays, and the Indians who paddled the floating gardens on which they lived up the waters of that gorgeous city with early vegetables for the chiefs--would be rather weird! And then the strange fashions and universal prevalence of j.a.panese gardening. The wistaria rioting in the hedges, and the great lilies wild over the hills. Ditto the camellias. With all the queer little thatched j.a.panese huts that always have lumps of _iris_ on the top, which the j.a.panese ladies use for bandoline. Then the cacti would have queer legends of South America, where the goats climb the steep rocks and dig them up with their horns and roll them down into the valley, and kick and play with them till the _spines_ get rubbed off, and then devour them at leisure. I give you these instances in case anything notable about flowers comes in your way, "when found to make a note of" for me....

TO MRS. ELDER.

_Ecclesfield_, October 25, 1871.

MY DEAREST AUNT HORATIA,

Your letter _was_ shown to me, and I cannot tell you how much obliged to you I am for the prospect of the gold thimble, _a thing I have always wished to possess_.

I--(if it fits!!! But, as I told Charlie, if it is too big I _can_ wrap a sly bit of rag round my finger, but if it's too small, unless I cut the tip, as Cinderella's sisters cut their heels, I don't know how I can secure it!) shall additionally value it as a testimony of your approval of my dear old Hermit[37], for that is one of my greatest favourites amongst my efforts. Miss Yonge prefers it, I believe, to anything I have ever done, and Rex nearly so....

Your loving niece, J.H.E.

[Footnote 37: "The Blind Hermit and the Trinity Flower," vol. xvi.]

TO C.T. GATTY.

_Aldershot_. Holy Innocents, 1871,

... I had the very latest widow here for two days "charring." She is the lady alluded to by Rex when he told Stephen that she had been weighed, and was found wanting. In justice to her physique, I must say that this was not according to avoirdupois measure!! but figurative.

She whipped about as nimbly as an elephant. She was rather given to panting and groaning. You can fancy her. [_Sketch_.] "Mrs. Hewin, ma'am, _don't_ soil your 'ands! _Let_ me! As I says to the parties at the 'Imperial' at Folkstone, ladies thinks an elderly person can't get through their work, but they can do a deal more than the young ones that has to be told every--Using the table-cloth to wipe the dishes am I? Tst, tst! so I ham! M'm! Hemma! where's your kitchen cloths? I don't know where things his yet, Mrs. Hewin. But I've 'ad a 'Ome of my own, Mrs. Hewin, and been use to take care of things"--("Take care, Mrs. Plumridge")--"Well now! 'owever did _that_ slip through my fingers now? Tst! tst! tst! There must have been a bit of b.u.t.ter on the hunder side I think. Eh! deary dear! Ah--! Oh--!" Pause--Solo recitative--"Eh, dear! If my poor 'usband was but alive, I shouldn't be wanting now! I Ope I give you satisfaction, Mrs. Hewin. If I'm poor, I'm honest. I ope I give satisfaction in hevery way, Mrs. Hewin, Your property is safe in _my_ 'ands, Mrs. Hewin! What do you think of my papers, Mrs. Hewin? One lady as see them said she didn't know what more _hany_ one could require." (Said papers chiefly consisting of baptism registers of the little Plumridges. Marriage lines of Mrs. P., and forms in reference to the late Mr. P., a pensioner.)

SEQUEL.

"Emma, where's the water-can?"

"Please 'm, Mrs. Plumberridge, she left it outside of the door yesterday, and some one's took it."

There is yet a later widow, but I do _not_ think of taking her into the house. The Widow Bone has taken to _boning_ her daughter's clothes, so _she_ is forbidden the house....

To A.E.