Stories by American Authors, Volume 5
Yours always, THEODORE LISLE. Theodore's letter is of course very kind, but it's remarkably obscure. My mother may have had the highest regard for Mr. Sloane, but she never mentioned his name in my hearing. Who is he, what is he, and what is the nature of his relations with Theodore? I shall learn betimes. I have written to Theodore that I gladly accept (I believe I suppressed the "gladly" though) his friend's invitation, and that I shall immediately present myself. What can I do that is better? Speaking sordidly, I shall obtain food and lodging while I look about me. I shall have a base of operations. D., it appears, is a long day's journey, but enchanting when you reach it. I am curious to see an enchanting American town. And to stay a month! Mr. Frederick Sloane, whoever you are, _vous faites bien les choses_, and the little that I know of you is very much to your credit. You enjoyed the friendship of my dear mother, you possess the esteem of the virtuous Theodore, you commend yourself to my own affection. At this rate, I shall not grudge it. D--, 14th.--I have been here since Thursday evening--three days. As we rattled up to the tavern in the village, I perceived from the top of the coach, in the twilight, Theodore beneath the porch, scanning the
granted many facilities for the growth of commercial relations between
Herzegovina and her own provinces. Thus, for instance, the transit dues
on the majority of imports and exports have been removed, a few articles
only paying a nominal duty on passing into Turkey. Wool, skins, hides,
wax, honey, fruits, and vegetables, are allowed into Dalmatia free of
duty. A grant of 1,200,000 florins has, moreover, been recently made
for the regulation of the channel of the Narenta, with the view of
rendering it navigable by small steamers, which will doubtless prove a
most profitable outlay. It is to be hoped that the Turkish government
will take steps to continue the line to Mostar, which is quite
practicable, and could be effected at a small expense.
The Narenta takes its rise at the foot of the small hill called Bolai, a
spur of the Velesh range of mountains. Its route is very circuitous, the
entire distance from the source to its mouth being about one hundred and
thirty miles, while its average width is computed at about one hundred
and forty yards. It is subject to rapid rises between the months of
September and May, caused by rains in the mountains and the melting
snow, and a rise of twelve feet in three or four hours is by no means
uncommon. As a source of communication it might be invaluable to the
province, but in its present state it is perfectly useless, since the
hardness of its waters renders it unfit for irrigation. It has many
tributary streams, amongst the most important of which are the Boona,
Bregava, Rama, Radopolie, Trebitza, and Cruppa.
On its right bank, and some miles above the mouth, is a small town,
Yours always, THEODORE LISLE. Theodore's letter is of course very kind, but it's remarkably obscure. My mother may have had the highest regard for Mr. Sloane, but she never mentioned his name in my hearing. Who is he, what is he, and what is the nature of his relations with Theodore? I shall learn betimes. I have written to Theodore that I gladly accept (I believe I suppressed the "gladly" though) his friend's invitation, and that I shall immediately present myself. What can I do that is better? Speaking sordidly, I shall obtain food and lodging while I look about me. I shall have a base of operations. D., it appears, is a long day's journey, but enchanting when you reach it. I am curious to see an enchanting American town. And to stay a month! Mr. Frederick Sloane, whoever you are, _vous faites bien les choses_, and the little that I know of you is very much to your credit. You enjoyed the friendship of my dear mother, you possess the esteem of the virtuous Theodore, you commend yourself to my own affection. At this rate, I shall not grudge it. D--, 14th.--I have been here since Thursday evening--three days. As we rattled up to the tavern in the village, I perceived from the top of the coach, in the twilight, Theodore beneath the porch, scanning the