SATURDAY, 2ND JULY 1892.
THE character of my handwriting is explained, alas! by
scrivener's cramp. This also explains how long I have let
the paper lie plain.
1 P. M.
I was busy copying David Balfour with my left hand - a most
laborious task - Fanny was down at the native house
superintending the floor, Lloyd down in Apia, and Belle in
her own house cleaning, when I heard the latter calling on my
name. I ran out on the verandah; and there on the lawn
beheld my crazy boy with an axe in his hand and dressed out
in green ferns, dancing. I ran downstairs and found all my
house boys on the back verandah, watching him through the
dining-room. I asked what it meant? - 'Dance belong his
place,' they said. - 'I think this no time to dance,' said I.
'Has he done his work?' - 'No,' they told me, 'away bush all
morning.' But there they all stayed on the back verandah. I
went on alone through the dining-room, and bade him stop. He
did so, shouldered the axe, and began to walk away; but I
called him back, walked up to him, and took the axe out of
his unresisting hands. The boy is in all things so good,
that I can scarce say I was afraid; only I felt it had to be
stopped ere he could work himself up by dancing to some
craziness. Our house boys protested they were not afraid;
all I know is they were all watching him round the back door
and did not follow me till I had the axe. As for the out
boys, who were working with Fanny in the native house, they
thought it a very bad business, and made no secret of their
fears.
WEDNESDAY, 6TH.
I have no account to give of my stewardship these days, and
there's a day more to account for than mere arithmetic would
tell you. For we have had two Monday Fourths, to bring us at
last on the right side of the meridian, having hitherto been
an exception in the world and kept our private date.
Business has filled my hours sans intermission.
TUESDAY, 12TH
I am doing no work and my mind is in abeyance. Fanny and
Belle are sewing-machining in the next room; I have been
pulling down their hair, and Fanny has been kicking me, and
now I am driven out. Austin I have been chasing about the
verandah; now he has gone to his lessons, and I make believe
to write to you in despair. But there is nothing in my mind;
I swim in mere vacancy, my head is like a rotten nut; I shall
soon have to begin to work again or I shall carry away some
part of the machinery. I have got your insufficient letter,
for which I scorn to thank you. I have had no review by
Gosse, none by Birrell; another time if I have a letter in
the TIMES, you might send me the text as well; also please
send me a cricket bat and a cake, and when I come home for
the holidays, I should like to have a pony.
I am, sir, your obedient servant,
JACOB TONSON.
P.S. I am quite well; I hope you are quite well. The world
is too much with us, and my mother bids me bind my hair and
lace my bodice blue.