Letter to Jessie Drummond (january 1885)
This letter was written by Arthur Conan Doyle from Bush Villas (Southsea) in january 1885 to Jessie Drummond.
Letter
Dear Jessie,
If my New Year's greeting is somewhat late it is none the less hearty. I hope every possible happiness will come upon 25 Warrender Park Road during '85. I began the New Year well with a swollen face, a gum-boil and a toothache. I hope your experience has been more happy. Very many thanks for the carte, which was far the prettiest Xmas card which I have had this year. What was that most heartless little foster mother of mine about that she did not let me have a few words. Thanks to her for the card all the same. I can understand that at Xmas with a family around it is no easy matter to write but she must let me have a line when she is at leisure.
If you should come across London Society for January consult it for a most cynical, misanthropical yarn, yclept "The Man from Archangel". The novel grows apace. I have now quite half of it done. I don't know what to think of it. I am not quite as desponding as my friend Burton who has also written a novel. He says he always leaves his table as a few pages of it as woeful as a sleeping draught for his friends — often himself they act as an emetic. I ought to get mine out this year, that is to say if any publisher will undertake the responsibility.
You have no idea how lonely this house became after you and the girls departed. Mrs Smith and I mooned about hardly knowing what to do with ourselves. What high old times we had in the kitchen. The memory of them still hangs around the dingy room & brightens it. I am frightened about these earthquakes in Spain. I hope they won't go Lisbonwards or those poor girls will be frightened out of their lives. Fancy an earthquake in a dynamite factory — stoves upsetting and the coals getting mixed up with the dynamite — It won't bear thinking of.
I had a long letter from James Ryan the other day, who seems to be flourishing, mind, body, and pocket, in a glorious fashion. I must write to Mrs Ryan by the way. I wish you would give her my salaams and say I am about to do so. This toothache has thrown all my correspondence into arrears. The practice is looking up. I have one especially good case of a broken arm which ought to do me a lot of good.
With my love to the small mother, and also, my dear Jessie, to yourself and every wish for your happiness, I am
- your affectionate friend
- A Conan Doyle.
