My dear Atkinson,—­Many and sincere thanks for your most hospitable invitation, and for the very interesting photo of the family group.  The former I fear I must ask you to let me defer sine die, and regard it as a pleasant dream, not quite hopeless of being some day realised.  I keep a list of such pleasant possibilities, and yours is now one of ten similar kind offers of hospitality.  But as life shortens in, and the evening shadows loom in sight, one gets to grudge any time given to mere pleasure, which might entail the leaving work half finished that one is longing to do before the end comes.

There are several books I greatly desire to get finished for children.  I am glad to find my working powers are as good as they ever were.  Even with the mathematical book (a third edition) which I am now getting through the press, I think nothing of working six hours at a stretch.

    There is one text that often occurs to me, “The night
    cometh, when no man can work.”  Kindest regards to Mrs.
    Atkinson, and love to Gertrude.

    Always sincerely yours,

    C. L. Dodgson.

For the benefit of children aged “from nought to five,” as he himself phrased it, Lewis Carroll prepared a nursery edition of “Alice.”  He shortened the text considerably, and altered it so much that only the plot of the story remained unchanged.  It was illustrated by the old pictures, coloured by Tenniel, and the cover was adorned by a picture designed by Miss E. Gertrude Thomson.  As usual, the Dedication takes the form of an anagram, the solution of which is the name of one of his later child-friends. “The Nursery ‘Alice,’” was published by Macmillan and Co., in March, 1890.

    On August 18th the following letter on the “Eight Hours
    Movement” appeared in The Standard:—­

Sir,—­Supposing it were the custom, in a certain town, to sell eggs in paper bags at so much per bag, and that a fierce dispute had arisen between the egg vendors and the public as to how many eggs each bag should be understood to contain, the vendors wishing to be allowed to make up smaller bags; and supposing the public were to say, “In future we will pay you so much per egg, and you can make up bags as you please,” would any ground remain for further dispute?

Supposing that employers of labour, when threatened with a “strike” in case they should decline to reduce the number of hours in a working day, were to reply, “In future we will pay you so much per hour, and you can make up days as you please,” it does appear to me—­being, as I confess, an ignorant outsider—­that the dispute would die out for want of a raison d’etre, and that these disastrous strikes, inflicting such heavy loss on employers and employed alike, would become things of the past.

    I am, Sir, your obedient servant,