Litchfield enquirer., 1873-10-23
John FleDamiag to Edtoard DelGaey.
 August II H.-

August II
 Your letter. dear Ned, was gossseli Fancy what fix am in.-I, who never
 had 6 days sickness since was born. My left leg weighs three tons. It IS em- of fine linen, like a mummy. I can't
 move I have n't moved for five thousand years. I'm of the time of Pharaoh.
 lie from morning till night on a lounge, staring into the hot street. Everybody is out of town enjoying himself. The
 brown-stone front houses across the street resemble a row of particularly ug
 ly coffns set mp on end. 4 green mould is settling on the names of the deceased, carved on the silver door-plates. Sar- donic spiders have sewed up the key
 holes. All is silence and dust and deso- take a shy at Watkins with the second volume of Cesar Birotteau. Missed him! I think I could bring him down with a copy of Sainte-Beuve or the Dictionnaire Universel, if had it. These small Bal zac books somehow don't quite fit my hand. But I shali fetch him yet. I've an idea Watkins is tapping the old gen. tleman's Chateau Yquem. Duplicate key of the wine cellar. Hibernian swarries in the front basement. Young Cheops up stairs. snug in his cerements. Watkins glides into my chamber, with that color less, hypocritical face of his drawn out long like an accordion; but know he grins all the way down stairs, and is glad l have broken my leg. Was not my evil star in the very zenith when ran up to town to attend that dinner at Delmoni- co.'s? l did mt come up altogether for that. It was partly to buy Frank Living stone's roan mare Margot. And now shall not be able to sit in the saddle these two months. I'll send the mare down to you at Tine Pines,-is that the name of the place? E
 Old Dillon fancies that I have some thing on my mind. He drives me wild with lemons Lemons for a mind dis eased! Nonsense. I am only as restless as the devil under this confinement,-a thing I'm not used to. Take man who has never had so much as headache or toothache in his life, strap one of his legs in section of water-spout, keep him in a room in the city for weeks, with the hot weather turned on, and then expect him to smile and purr and be happy! It is preposterous. I can't be cheerful or calm.
 Your letter is the first consoling thing I have had since my disaster, a week ago. It really cheered me up for half an hour. Send me a sereed, Ned, as often as you can, if you love me. Anything will do. Write me more about that little girl in the hammock. That was very pretty, all that about the Dresden china sheperdess and the pond-lily; the imagery little mixed, perhaps, but very pretty. I didn mt suppose you had so much sentimental furniture in your upper story. It shows how one may be familiar for years with the reception-room of his neighbors, and never suspect what is directly under his mansard. I supposed your loft stuffed with dry legal parchments, mortgages and affidavits; you take down 8 package of manuscript. and 10! there are lyrics and sonnets and canzonettas. You really have graphic descriptive touch, Edward Delaney, and suspect you of short love- tales in the magazines.
 I shall be bear until hear from you again. Tell me all about your pretty ia- cOalnue. across the road. What is her name? Who Is she? Who's her father? Where's her mother? Who's her lover? You cannot imagine how this will occupy me. The more trifing the better. My imprisonment has weakened me intellect ually to such a degree that find your epistolary gifts quite considerable. am passing into my second childhood. In week or two shall take to india-rubber rings and prongs of coral. A silver cup, with an appropriate inscription, would be delicate attention on your part. In the mean time, write!