Tag Archives: sheep

The tales are all ghastly

Posted on April 2, 2015 by mafalda

At Kinniard Cottage, Pitlochry, Perthshire, RLS was for some weeks in good health and working order. His mother described the house in a letter as ‘a nice little Highland cottage with a pleasant talkative mother to cook for us and … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged Actor's Wife, alone, Ben Vrackie, Black Man, Bob Stevenson, Body Snatcher, burn, Case Bottle, crags, Dead Man's Letter, death, Devil on Cramond Sands, exuberant, Fanny, frighten, ghastly, glen, gold, green, health, hope, hunger, King's Horn, Kinnaird Cottage, Landor, larks, maze, moorlands, Pitlochry, pots, professoriate, purple, recover, Robert Louis Stevenson, rocky, Scotch, Shadow on the Bed, sheep, Sidney Colvin, singing, snow-white, stairs, Stephen, supernatural, sweet, tales, Thrawn Janet, wonderful, Wreck of the Susanna | Leave a comment

A little lake of tarnished green deepening into a blood-orange at the margins

Posted on June 7, 2014 by mafalda

In Edinburgh Sacramental fast-days were observed on the Thursday before the last Sunday of April and October; they were discontinued in 1887. The ‘Song of Deborah and Barak’ is from the Bible, Judges 5. [Dots between square brackets indicate cuts … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged afternoon, anxious, archers, asses, autumn, black, blood-orange, change, chimney, church, clergyman, cloud, cold, colour, damned, dark, draw-wells, Edinburgh, Egyptian buildings, Fanny Sitwell, Fast, females, fighting-cocks, friend, German, green, grumbling, heat, Her Majesty, hermit, hills, History, Holy Sacrament, husbands, John Knox, lamp, life, Mentone, mother, Mound, newspapers, night, painting, pleasure, poem, princes, proud, red, rheumatism, riotous, river Kishon, Robert Louis Stevenson, roof-line, scalp, Scotland, scroll, secular, Sehnsucht, sheep, shoulders, Sisera, Song of Deborah and Barak, space, Sphinx, stars, statues, sun, sunset, sunshin, temper, walk, weary, wind, windows, women, work, wrinkles | Leave a comment

Conscientiousness is a sort of moral opium

Posted on May 16, 2014 by mafalda

[As usual, dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Sir Sidney Colvin. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 2, 274, dated May 19 ff., and 298, dated Jul. 20]. To Fanny Sitwell [Colvin 1911, … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged alone, ants, bird, bird-songs, blackbird, Byron, chary, church, cock, cold, Conscientiousness, consternation, cottage, darkness, dawn, death, doses, Edinburgh, excitant, Fables, Fanny Sitwell, fire, flourish, garden, generation, genius, grey, hill, hills, inaction, landscape, Lord Lytton, magazine, manner, Mazeppa, melancholy, mist, moral, Morley, narcotic, nest, opium, pain, partridges. plover, passion, persevere, proof, responsibilities, Robert Louis Stevenson, room, ruin, Scotch, scrupulous, sheep, silence, sluice-gate, Spring, Swanston, touchwood, trees, wet, white, wind, writers | Leave a comment

“When we go to the olivses it allways rememberse us you”

Posted on May 14, 2014 by mafalda

RLS’s Russian friend, Mme. Garshine, and her (adopted) daughter Pella, are leaving Menton to go to Franzensbad, Poland (now Czechoslovakia). RLS is writing, for the Fortnightly Review, about Lord Lytton’s newly published volume, Fables in Song. [Dots between square brackets … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged blues, cold, Fables, Fanny Sitwell, foreign, Franzensbad, hill, landscape, Lord Lytton, Madame Garschine, olives, Pella, pupil, Robert Louis Stevenson, Russian, Scotch, sheep, shepherd, sun, Swanston, valley, wind | 2 Comments

We are now at Swanston Cottage, Lothianburn, Edinburgh

Posted on May 11, 2014 by mafalda

This and the following letters date after RLS’s return to Scotland, at Swanston Cottage. Swanston Cottage was built in 1761 by Edinburgh Council and raised to two stories in 1820. RLS’s parents leased it 1867 to 1880. RLS stays there … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged afternoon, air, birds, blackbirds, bleating, blossom, bracken, Calvin, cold, crows, daylight, Fanny Sitwell, feet, fellow-student, field, furze, garden, golde, green, grey, hill, ill, jolly, juniper, leaden, letter, life, Lothianburn, my people, north, Ordered South, perturbation, pounds, rabbit, Robert Louis Stevenson, Roman Law, russet, scalp, seasons, sheep, shoots, sky, sleeted, Swanston, Victor Hugo, wind, winter, woods | Leave a comment

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Tag Archives: sheep

The tales are all ghastly

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Conscientiousness is a sort of moral opium

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“When we go to the olivses it allways rememberse us you”

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We are now at Swanston Cottage, Lothianburn, Edinburgh

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