I scarcely saw him eat a hearty meal during his whole stay in the country.  Both at Parker’s Hotel in Boston, and at the Westminster in New York, everything was arranged by the proprietors for his comfort and happiness, and tempting dishes to pique his invalid appetite were sent up at different hours of the day, with the hope that he might be induced to try unwonted things and get up again the habit of eating more; but the influenza, that seized him with such masterful powder, held the strong man down till he left the country.

One of the first letters I had from him, after he had begun his reading tour, was dated from the Westminster Hotel in New York, on the 15th of January, 1868.

    My Dear Fields:  On coming back from Philadelphia just now (three
    o’clock) I was welcomed by your cordial letter.  It was a delightful
    welcome and did me a world of good.

The cold remains just as it was (beastly), and where it was (in my head).  We have left off referring to the hateful subject, except in emphatic sniffs on my part, convulsive wheezes, and resounding sneezes.

The Philadelphia audience ready and bright.  I think they understood the Carol better than Copperfield, but they were bright and responsive as to both.—­They also highly appreciated your friend Mr. Jack Hopkins.  A most excellent hotel there, and everything satisfactory.  While on the subject of satisfaction, I know you will be pleased to hear that a long run is confidently expected for the No Thoroughfare drama.  Although the piece is well cast and well played, my letters tell me that Fechter is so remarkably fine as to play down the whole company.  The Times, in its account of it, said that “Mr. Fechter” (in the Swiss mountain scene, and in the Swiss Hotel) “was practically alone upon the stage.”  It is splendidly got up, and the Mountain Pass (I planned it with the scene-painter) was loudly cheered by the whole house.  Of course I knew that Fechter would tear himself to pieces rather than fall short, but I was not prepared for his contriving to get the pity and sympathy of the audience out of his passionate love for Marguerite.

My dear fellow, you cannot miss me more than I miss you and yours.  And Heaven knows how gladly I would substitute Boston for Chicago, Detroit, and Co.!  But the tour is fast shaping itself out into its last details, and we must remember that there is a clear fortnight in Boston, not counting the four Farewells.  I look forward to that fortnight as a radiant landing-place in the series....

Rash youth!  No presumptuous hand should try to make the punch, except in the presence of the hoary sage who pens these lines.  With him on the spot to perceive and avert impending failure, with timely words of wisdom to arrest the erring hand and curb the straying judgment, and, with such gentle expressions of encouragement as his stern experience may justify, to cheer the