Tag Archives: toothache

“That is the class of literature that I like when I have the toothache”

Posted on March 1, 2023 by mafalda

[As usual, for full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 8, 2552.] To A. Conan Doyle [Colvin 1911, 4, pp. 186-7] Vailima, Apia, Samoa, April 5th, 1893 Dear Sir, You have taken many occasions to make yourself … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson, Senza categoria | Tagged address, Apia, bell, compliments, Conan Doyle, cure, Holmes, literature, pleurisy, Proceedings of the Society for Psychical Research, Robert Louis Stevenson, Samoa, Spookist, toothache, Vailima | Leave a comment

We were all in a buck basket about halfway between the swing and the gate

Posted on December 21, 2015 by mafalda

RLS’s cousin, Henrietta Traquair (1850-1902), had been reading Penny Whistles (‘family’ edition of “A Child’s Garden of Verses”) and recognised herself and her brother Willie in the poem ‘A Pirate Story’. Henrietta lived in Colinton Road, Edinburgh, and had married … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged acidulated drops, Bridge of Allan, Child's Garden of Verses, Child's Play, cousin, crick, devil, dream, evening, Fair One with Golden Locks, fairy tales, Giant Bunker, Glasgow girl, Good Boy, henrietta, home, horrid, Hyères, lady, language, Milne, mistral, parry, pennyworth, Pirate Squadron, play, Prince Alfred, Prince of Wales, Princess Royal, Ramsay, sailing, Scotland, sentiment, taste, toothache, Traquair, weather bow, wife, Willie, wind | Leave a comment

A certain warmth (tepid enough) and a certain dash of the picturesque are my poor essential qualities

Posted on December 1, 2015 by mafalda

[As usual, dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Sidney Colvin. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 4, 1143.] To Edmund Gosse [Colvin 1911, 2, pp. 161-162] La Solitude, Hyères, 26th September 1883 My … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged Americans, artist, £, bereavement, butcher, Century, classical, correspondence, education, envy, execution, Ferrier, French, Gosse, health, Hyères, income, inefficiency, irritation, lenient, life, love, moves, Patience, picturesque, pot-boiler, qualities, remuneration, rent, Robert Louis Stevenson, schemes, Sculptors, shelved, sickness, sittings, strength, surprise, thunderclap, toothache, Transatlantica, treasure, warmth | Leave a comment

Here I am in my native land

Posted on March 31, 2015 by mafalda

RLS and Fanny travelled from Paris to London soon after 18 May, 1881, visiting Fanny’s son, Lloyd, who was studying at York. Then they returned to Scotland, moving (on 6 June) to Pitlochry, Perthshire, and staying at first at Fisher’s … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged 1740, annoying, aphasia, beggar, Bible, Blackie, book, burn, Cavalier, Cavalier de Sauve, cheeses, childish, comments, cottage, cream, death, Dobson, Dunoyer, eighteenth century, England, erudite, eternal, Fage, farm, fatness, fire, France, French, furnished, good feeling, Gosse, gratitude, hailed, hell, horrid, human forms, incurable, information, ink, invisible, knowledge, Lacy, Lang, library, Lions, literary fault, literary lepers, loathsome, magnitude, Marion, marry, moderation, moor, Moulin, native land, New Version, odd, old age, pedantic, pens, persuade, Peyrat, Pitlochry, pleasant, plotting-paper, pray, procession, prophets, reading, revisers, rivals, Robert Louis Stevenson, Saintsbury, Scotland, service, shabbily, silly, star, suffer, swollen, talk, temptation, toothache, torture, track, Vacquerie, vanity, verses, Virginibus Puerisque, Voltaire, Weg, words, write | Leave a comment

I look forward confidently; I have faith after all!

Posted on May 18, 2014 by mafalda

[Dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Sir Sidney Colvin. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 2, 276]. To Fanny Sitwell [Colvin 1912, pp. 74-78] [Swanston, June, 1874], Wednesday. […] news reaches me that … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged apologise, apple-blosson, back, bird, black dog, Bob, clay, clods, clouds, consciousness, Consuelo, country, cruelty, cry, daisies, death, dinner-table, diphtheria, faith, Fanny Sitwell, fever, flowers, French, furze, ganglia, garden, gentlemanm, George Sand, god, grass, green, grey, happiness, hedge, hills, indemnity, landscape, leaves, letters, life, light, London, majesty, matter, meditation, modesty, pains, playthings, pleasures, Portobello, rain, Robert Louis Stevenson, rude, Rudolstadt Comtesse de, scent, servants, shadow, sky, sleep, Summer, sun, sunshine, surf, Swanston, sympathy, tempest, thoughts, tired, toothache, trees, Victor Hugo, voluptuousness, white, wind, woman, yew | Leave a comment

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Tag Archives: toothache

“That is the class of literature that I like when I have the toothache”

Rate this:

We were all in a buck basket about halfway between the swing and the gate

Rate this:

A certain warmth (tepid enough) and a certain dash of the picturesque are my poor essential qualities

Rate this:

Here I am in my native land

Rate this:

I look forward confidently; I have faith after all!

Rate this:

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