Your letter with Dr Twitchels enclosed I found last night [on] my return from a short trip to the New England coast—all I can say is that whenever you can send me news about Gerhardt and particularly news of that description I hope you will continue—for I thank you sincerely for it—its real good to hear of a fellow thats pitching in in dead earnest—there are not too many of them in our profession here and when he comes back he will be a good shoulder to have alongside as we go marching along—How long has he been gone? a year and a half—Bravo—I know just where he stands—and I mean Bravo—now let him stick it out and not come home too soon—I know he wont tho, his success proves that he is intelligent enough to understand that I sent the letter to Mrs St G who I know would like to see it—

Aug 2d/82.

on the verso:

(I turned this over to say he means Twichell’s letter—I forgot he had already mentioned that it was T’s letter.)

Mrs. Clemens & I send a power of love to you both—& likewise hearty congratulations to you both. For that portrait by Mrs. Joe seems a wonderful performance—more wonderful than all her other specimens—which latter I could learn to duplicate, myself, in 5 years, but not the portrait in thirty-five. Mrs. Joe’s water is, as Mrs. Clemens observes, most excellent. It certainly is. Pity about that Cluny! It is beautiful, yet, in the protecting lamp-light, but the day exposes the cruel marrings caused by the inveterate sticking of the oil paper (the paint is not yet dry, & is still sticky to the touch,) & the flattening of the surface by long-continued pressure. O, d—ear! (It’s the first time I’ve managed to get the word finished in that way since the ◊ maltreated picture came.)