New York, Dec. 28
Dear J. H.—
I hasten to enclose to you my R R ticket from New Haven to New York, before I forget to recollect it. You see, when I found, last night, that there was a boat at 11 P.M., & that a man would have to get up as early as day before yesterday to [catsh ]any train that would leave before noon, I of course sent down & engaged a stateroom—& as I haven’t any earthly use for this R R ticket, my soul swells with a boundless generosity, & I send it to you.1 If it shall be the means of making one year small year of your sad this ‸your‸ sad earthly pilgrimage seem happier, & brighter, & bullyer, it is all I ask. Pax Vobiscum! (I don’t know what Pax Vobiscum means, but it is the correct thing to say in the way of a benediction, I believe.) Good-bye. Great love to the wife & the boys.
Yrs always
Sam Mark.
I wrote Livy about your coming Feb. 1—& to be ready for the woods the first of August—& what Mrs. Hooker said to us—& everything.—Hello, I didn’t see that blank page on the other side.2
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
Source text(s):
Previous publication:
L3, 441–442.
Provenance:It is not known when Twichell’s papers were deposited at Yale,
although it is likely that he bequeathed them to the university upon his
death in 1918 (L2, 570).
Emendations and textual notes:
catsh • [sic]