And anyhow--even if he still has brains--his writing apparatus
is all done up in arnica, so there you are!
But do not allow me to alarm you unduly! When all's said and done,
they're not so badly off physically. Hair and ribs are mere
vanities, anyhow, and we're here to-day and gone to-morrow!
Something much worse than disfigurements and broken bones has
sprung forth from chaos, and has almost stared them out of
countenance since. It is the wolf that is at the door, and the
howling and prowling of their particular wolf is not to be sneezed
at, let me tell you. To put a modern political face upon an
ancient Greek fable, the wolf in their case symbolizes the bitter
question of whose roof is going to roof them when they get out of
the plaster casts that are bed and board to them just at present.
Where are they to go? All those which used to be open to them are
suddenly shut tight. They've both been expelled, and both been
disinherited. If I was inclined to look on the blue side of the
blanket, I should certainly feel that they were playing in very
tough luck. Burnett, of course, can come to you, and his soul is
full of the wish to bring his fellow-fright along with him. Which
wish of his is the gist of my epistle. _Can_ he bring him? He
wants to know before he broaches the proposition. I'm to be
skinned alive if Jack ever learns that such a plea was made, so I
beg you whatever other rash acts you see fit to commit during your
meteoric flight across my plane of existence, don't ever give me
away.
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