believe I wrote you from the Coast. Now I have been
home a week, and glad to hear from you. But my dear,
you said nothing of surgery, did you? So sorry you had
such a rough time.
is a heavenís own place for rest. I am sure you would
like it. Iím sorry to say that the three engagements
for entertainments there this summer have been made
already, so we could not take on our friend Geordini.1
But come down by all means if you are inclined. Altitude
a little under two thousand feet. A dry climate like
the Adirondacks, even when raining, and most salubrious.
to Miss Mary Albertson, Ledge End Inn, Haines Falls,
N.Y., and ask about accomodation [sic] and terms. They
are always crowded in July and August. She belongs to
the Angelic hosts of this earth, and her house is a
haven of peace. Two weeks there would be better that
a month anywhere else.
could also write to Santa Cruz Inn, also in the Park,2
and see what they say. It is also good and has a fine
view. Both are near us, and both are open now. I shall
be going up about the end of June. I am sure you would
gain strength there, and find the place very congenial,
and everyone would make you welcome. So do come and
am still sunk in an abyss of letters.
to you as ever
George Finn (see Letter 4 n.6). [back]
Park (see Letter 1 n.1). [back]