Elmira, Sep. 15.
My Dear Howells:
When & where? Here on the farm would be an elegant place to meet, but of course you cannot come so far. So we will say Hartford or Belmont, about the beginning of November. The date of our return to Hartford is uncertain, but will be three or four weeks hence, I judge. I hope to finish my book here before migrating.
I think maybe I’ve got some Atlanticable stuff in my head, but there’s none in MS I believe.
Say—a friend of mine wants to write a play with me, I to furnish the broad-comedy [cuss. I] don’t know anything about his ability, but his letter serves to remind me of our old projects. If you haven’t used Orion or Old Wakeman (Amateur Detective), don’t you think you & I can get together & grind out a play with one of those fellows in it? Orion is a field which grows richer & richer the more he manures it with each new top-dressing of religion or other [guano. Drop] me an immediate line about this, won’t you? I imagine I see Orion on the stage, always gentle, always melancholy, always changing his politics & religion, & trying to reform the world, always inventing something, & losing a limb by a new kind of explosion at the end of each of the four acts. Poor old chap, he is good material. I can imagine his wife or his sweetheart reluctantly adopting each of his new religions in turn, just in time to see him waltz into the next one & leave her isolated once more. (Mem. Orion’s wife has followed him into the outer darkness, after 30 years’ rabid membership in the Presbyterian church.)
Well, with the sincerest & most abounding love to you & yours, from all this family, I am
Yrs Ever
Mark.
What is your
P. O. address?
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