I was very sure you would run across that story somewhere, & am glad you have. A Drummond light—no, I mean a Brush light—is thrown upon the negro estimate of values by his willingness to risk his soul & his nightly peace for ever for the sake of a silver sev’mpunce. And this form of the story seems rather nearer the true field-hand standard than that achieved by my Florida, Mo., negroes with their g sumptuous arm of solid gold.

I judge you haven’t received my new book yet—however, you will in a day or two. Meantime you must not take it ill if I drop Osgood a hint about your proposed story of slave life; for the more I deal with him the more I am satisfied that whosoever has a book will do the judicious thing to let him have it. He is a fine man every way; he knows his business; & it is less bother to publish a book with him than a pamphlet with another man. Moreover, we know, now, how to get Canadian copyright—& I doubt if anybody else in America does know. HeⒶemendation & I have just been up there, & I have wasted spent two weeks & various hundreds of dollars to find out. We were on the wrong scent all the time. But we know all about it, now; & he can engineer your imperial & provincial copyrights for you with no difficulty & but moderate expense. And he would put you into the hands of the right London house, too—Chatto & Windus. One has no trouble with C. & W. They have published three books for me.

When you come north I wish you would drop me a line & then follow it in person & give me a day or two at our house in Hartford. If you will, I will snatch Osgood down from Boston, & you won’t have to go there at all unless you want to. Please to bear this strictly in mind, & don’t forget it.