Part 13 (1/2)

However--the Prosody and Serpent lectures are just finis.h.i.+ng off and then I shall come to see you in the morning! while I am awake.

I went out before breakfast this morning, half asleep--and saw what I thought was a red breasted woodp.e.c.k.e.r as big as a pigeon! Presently it came down on the lawn and I made up my mind it was only a robin about the size of a small partridge!

Can it have been a cross-bill?

BRANTWOOD.

I've had this cold five days now and it's worse than ever, and yet I feel quite well in other respects, and the glorious suns.h.i.+ne is a great joy to me. Also Prince Leopold's words,[41] seen to-day. Very beautiful in themselves--and--I say it solemnly--just, more than ever I read before of friend's sayings. It is strange--I had no conception he saw so far into things or into _me_.

It is the greatest help that has ever been given me (in the view the public will take of it).

[Footnote 41: In a speech delivered at the Mansion House, February 19, 1870, in support of the extension of university teaching. See Cook's ”Studies in Ruskin,” p. 45.]

BRANTWOOD.

A heap half a foot high of unanswered letters pouring and tottering across the table must pour and fall as they will, while I just say how thankful I am for yours always, and how, to-day, I must leave letters, books and all to work on that lovely Trientalis which Mary sent me. It has a peculiar set of trine leaves which Linnaeus noticed and named it for--modern botanists have no notion of it.

I think both Mary and you will be deeply interested in seeing it worked out. I've been at it since seven o'clock.

Yes, if I had known you were in the garden! Alas--one never can know what one wants to--I was all that afternoon seeing the blacksmith make a chopper!

BROADLANDS, ROMSEY, _15th October_ (1875).

I was very thankful for your letter this morning--having heard you were unwell and being a little despondent myself--more than of late--an Italian n.o.bleman is here who cares for nothing but shooting, and everybody thinks it perfectly right!

It is a great joy to me that you find so much in the ”Stones of Venice”--I hope that book is worth the time it took me to write it, every year of youth seems to me in looking back, now so precious.

How very strange I should give you _quietness_, myself being always disquieted in heart--a Ghost of poor Samuel--helpless--in sight of ruining Israel.

To think of the difference between these two scenes,--Samuel at his feast sending the prepared portion to the expected Saul.

And Samuel the Ghost--with his message.

Well--this is a cheering letter to send my poor Susie. It's all that Italian Duke.

BRANTWOOD.

If ever a Gentiana Verna demeans itself to you at Brantwood--I'll disown it and be dreadfully ashamed for it! The other little things if they'll condescend to come shall be thanked and honored with my best.

Only please now _don't_ send me more asparagus!