Litchfield enquirer., 1873-10-23
from the Atlantic Monthly MARJORIE DAW.
Dr.. Dillon to Ednasd {Jetdaey, Esq.
 ct The Pines. ned5' Rye, N. 1T.

at The Pines. ned7' ffge, N. fl.
 August 8, 187-.
 My dear sir: I am happy to assure you that your anxiety is without reason. Flemming will be confined to the sofa for three or four weeks, and will have to be careful at first how he uses his leg. A fracture of this kind is always tedious affair. Fortunately, the bone was very skilfully set by the surgeon who chanced 1 to be ill the drug g-store where Fiemming was brought after his fall, and appre- hend no permanent inconvenience from the accident. Wemming IS doing pertect- lg aCeU 1ohysicaity; but l must confess that the irritable and morbid state of mind into which he has fallen causes me 1 a great deal of uneasines3. He IS the last man in the world who ought to break his leg. You know how impetuous our friend is ordinarily, what soul of restlessness and energy, never content unless he IS rushing at some object, like a sportive bull at a red shawl; but amiatle withal. He is no longer amiable. His temper has become something frightful. Miss Fanny Flemming came up from New port, where the family are staying for the summer, to nurse him; but he packed her off the next morning in tears. He has complete set of Balzacs works, twenty seven volumes, piled up by his sofa. to throw at Watkins whenever that exemplary ssrviag-man appears with hls meals Yesterday I very innocently lemons. You know it was a strip of lem on-peel on the curbstone that caused our friends mischance. We'll, he no sooner set his eyes upon these lemons, than he fell into such rage as I cannot describe adequately. This is only one of his moods, and the least distressing. At other times he sits with bowed head regarding his splintered limb, silent, sullen, despairing. When this fit is on him-and it sometimes lasts all day-nothing can distract his melancholy. He refuses topeat, does not even read the newspapers; books-except as projectiles for Watkins-have no charms for him. His state is truly pitia- ble.
 Now, If he were poor man, with fam fly dependent on his daily labor, this ir- ritability and despondency would be nat ural enough. But in young fellow of twenty four, with plenty of money and seemingly not a care in the world, the thing is monstrous. If he continues to give way to his vagaries in this manner, he will end by bringing on an infamma- tion of the fbula. It was the fibula he broke. I am at my wits end to know what to prescribe for him. l have anaes thetics and lotions, to make people sleep and to soothe pain; but I've no medicine that will make a man have little con- mon sense. That is beyond my skill, but maybe it is not beyond yours. You are Flemming's intimate friend, his fkus quently, distract his mind, cheer him up, on6 rnroxon% him fp0vn ho0nn,inY a firmed case of melancholia. Perhaps he has some important plans disarranged by his present confinement. If he has you will know. and will know how to advise him judiciously. I trust your father finds the change beneficial? I am, my dear sir, with great respect. etc.
 EdUard Delaney to John F1emming,
 Vest 38th Street. NeW York.
 August g..
 My dear Jack: had a line from Dill lon this morning, and was rejoiced to learn that your hurt is not so bad as re- ported. Like a certain parsonage, you are not SO black and blue as you are painted. Dillon will put you on your pins again in two or three weeks, if you will only have patience and follow his counsels. Did you get my note of last Wednesday? Twas greatly troubled when l heard of the accident.
 I can imagine how tranquil and saintly you are with your leg in trough! It's deuced awkard, to be sure, just as we had promised ourselves glorious month together at the seaside; but we must make the best of it. It is unfortunate, A1ok fok hoo1kh impossible for me to leave him. think native element; but he still needs my arm to lean upon in his walks, and requires some one more careful than a servant to look after him. I cannot come to you, dear Jack, but l have hours of unemploy- ed time on hand, and will write you a whole post office full of letters if that will divert you. Heaven knows. 1 have mt anything to write about. It is n't as if we were living at one of the beach houses; then I could do you some character stud ies, and fill your imagination with hosts of sea ea-goddesses, with their Cor somebody else's) raven and blond names hanging down their shoulders. You should have Aphrodite in morning wrapper, in even ing costume, and in her pretties bathing suit. But we are far from all that here. We have rooms in farm house, on a cross-road, two miles from the hotels, and lead the quietest of lives.
 Iwish were a novelist. This old house with it's sanded floors and high wainscotts, and its narrow windows looking out upon cluster of pines that turn themselves in- to @olian-harps every time the wind blows, would be the place in which to write summer romance. It should be story with the odors of the forest and the breath of the sea in it. It should be novel like one of that Russian fellows what's his name?-Tourguenief, Tur- guenef, Toorguniff, Turgeniew,-nobody knows how to spell him. q think his own mother must be in some doubt about him. Yet wonder if even Liza or an | Alexandra Paulovna could stir the heart of man who has constant twinges in his leg. I wonder if one of our own Yankee girls of the best type, naughty and spirit uelle, would be of any comfort to you in your present deplorable condition. If I thought so, I would rush down to the l Surf House and catch one for you; or, better still, I would find you one over the way.
 Picture to yourself large white house just across the road, nearly opposite our cottage. It is not 8 house, but man. sion, built, perhaps, in the colonial peri cd, with rambling extensions, and gam brel roof, and wide piazza on three s7es,-a self-possed, high-bred piece of hitecture, with its nose in the air. It sta..1 Is back from the road, and has an obsequious retinue of fringed elms and weeping willows. Sometimes in the morn ing, and oftener in the afternoon, when the sun has withdrawn from that part of the mansion, young woman appears on the piazza with some mysterious Penelope web of embroiders in her hand, or book. There is hammock over there,- pine apple fibre, it looks from here. A ham, mock is very becoming when one isSeigh- teen, and has gold hair, and dark eyes, and blue illusion dress looped up after the fashion of a Dresden china sheperd- ess, and is chaussee like belle of the time of Louis Quatorze. All this splen- dor goes into that hammock, and sways there like pond-lily in the golden after