Dear Old Joe—I ought to be at work instead of gossiping, even with you; but I’m barred for an hour anyhow, for they’ve put a woman in next to my work-room, who I think will last about that length of time, judging by the rate at which she is coughing & hawking and spitting. When it’s all over with her I will go back to work.

We are mighty hungry—we want to get home & get something to eat. I can’t quite make out how Americans live on this flat infernal European food several years at a time without a run home to now & then to fill in with something wholesome & satisfying. We have engaged passage in the “Gallia” for Aug. 21.

I’m still pegging steadily away; have written about matter enough for the book, but have weeded out & discarded a fourth of it & am banging away to supply the deficiency. My artist is banging away on the pictures., at the same time.

Boyesen & wife staid in our hotel 2 or 3 weeks, but as we should leave here before their confinement & they would be friendless, they concluded to go home & take young Boyesen along in the original package. If there’s a duty on such goods they will have to pay, for they can’t play it on the Custom house for fat—people don’t get fat here, & the inspectors know it.

Boyesen spent a pleasant evening with Tourguèneff, & he spent an evening here with us—a fine old man. This page is private to Joe. Mum! Boyesen called on Renan & Victor Hugo, also, & had a good time with both of those old cocks, but I didn’t go—my French ain’t limber enough. I can build up pretty stately French sentences, but the producing of an erection of this sort is not my best hold—I make it too hard & stiff—& so tall that only a seaman could climb it, or a monkey—but the latter would have to ’tend to business: couldn’t carry his nuts up in his hands, or any other provender—but you will be asking how can a monkey have connection with a subject of this kind anyway? He can’t. Nobody can. However, let that pass. I leave all this French business to Livy & Clara. They are studying hard every day, & I greatly pity them. A language ain’t worth half the trouble it costs to learn it. Aldrich was a here a week or so, & what a rattling time we did have. That fellow is blindingly bright.

Oh, Switzerland! I have finished writing it, a few days ago. I have made the burlesque of Alp-climbing prodigiously loud, but I guess I will leave it so. The leg German legends which I manufactured to fit the ruined castles along the Neckar seem to read very well. I discarded I tore up two or three of them, but the rest have the right ring to them. I’ve got in that veterinary student who said “O, hell-yes!” too—& if it comes handy I think I will run across him again in the closing chapters.

Well, that woman is no more—I will go to work. Love to you all.