A Line From the Lands End
Delightful! Atlas—I have read here, to the idle miners—culture in their manners curiously, at this season, blended with intoxication—your brilliant and graphic description of ’Arry The World, Jan. 2, 1884. at the other end of my arrangement in telescopic lenses.
The sensitive sons of the Cornish caves, by instinct refined, revel in the writhing of the resurrected ’Arry.
Our natures are evidently of the same dainty brutality. Cruelty to the critic after demise, is a revelation, and the story of ’Arry pursued with post-mortem, and, for Sunday demonstration, kept by galvanism from his grave, is to them most fascinating.
I have, my sympathetic Atlas, the success that might have been Edgar Poe’s, could he have read to such an audience the horrible “Case of Mr. Waldemar.”
My invention and machinery, by the way, these warm-hearted people believe to be something after the fashion of their own sluice-boxes—and I dare not undeceive them.
Atlas, je te la souhaite bonne et heureuse!
St. Ives, Cornwall,
Dec. 27.