Howard Pyle, a chronicle by Charles D. Abbott, with an introduction by N. C. Wyeth and many illustrations from Howard Pyle's works.

HOWARD PYLE:- A CHRONICLE
solute set, and dissolute in a low, vulgar, squalid way that
you don't often find out of New York-thank Heaven!
very rarely there. Three of them occupy our old room
and carry on in a way that evokes expressions of disgust
even from Sheahan, the Irish sculptor, of whom I spoke
to you when home last Christmas.
"Talking of Sheahan, by the bye, he came over to our
room not long since to borrow some 'tobaccy.' We induced
the unsuspecting victim to take a social smoke with us and
gave him in an offhand way a huge German pipe, filling it
with the strongest tobacco. The effect was that 'in about
thirty minutes he was just about the sickest Irishman on
this side of the Atlantic. He's never been over to borrow
'tobaccy' since.
"But here I have been rambling on too long. I won't
inflict you any longer, but will mercifully bring it to a
close. Otherwise, 'it would not be dutiful in
"Your affectionate son,
"HOWARD."
"New York,
"November 3, 1 878.
"Dear Mother:
"Once more I protest seriously and earnestly you must
write to me so that I can receive your letters before Sunday,
if you have any wish for a weekly letter. This time your
letter did not arrive until last Tuesday, and consequently
the Sunday was skipped without my usual interesting epistle
being written. Believe me, I am anxious to write, more
anxious, I am afraid, than you are to receive my letters, but
[ 52 1