Being dead I might be excused from writing letters, but I am not that kind of a corpse. May I never be so dead as to neglect the hail of a friend from a far land!

ItⒶemendation is odd that a letter containing the news of my own death should give me pleasure &Ⓐemendation a lively sense of relief—yet these were the effects produced by this one: pleasure in the recognition of the fact that I still possess a friendship which I so greatly value, &Ⓐemendation a sense of relief in the conviction that a fraud who has been passing under my name during some years in New South Wales &Ⓐemendation neighboring regions is at last disposed of &Ⓐemendation out of the way. Three times during the present year, mentionⒶemendation has been made of him in letters to me from that part of the world, &Ⓐemendation I was beginning to get pretty tired of him &Ⓐemendation his performances. Mention was made of him in a letter which I received (in the same mail with yours) to-day from Adelaide, South Australia—but not of his death. Still that letter antedates yours 8 days, &Ⓐemendation the fellow may have died during that week. (I am guessing that you got your news from out there somewhere, &Ⓐemendation not from England or America.)

WeⒶemendation are all well &Ⓐemendation hearty, &Ⓐemendation Mrs Clemens &Ⓐemendation I join in thanks to you for your kind words, &Ⓐemendation in rejoicings that you are still in the land of the living— &Ⓐemendation in good health, too, we hope.

With all good wishes I am