Livy darling, the swindle is all “p “up, .” & so Yesterday noon it came up cold, & I was driven to the pilot house to get warm. Got to talking with a little boy, son of a passenger, & presently felt the pilot’s eye on me. He had recognized my voice, after 21 years, though I did not remember him or his name either. He waited a while for confirmation of his suspicions; & presently when I raised my hat & passed my fingers up through my hair, he had no further doubts, & just called me by name. I confessed.

It would be nonsense to stop at Memphis, now, & fall a prey to the newspapers; so we shall stick to this boat to the bottom end of her voyage (Vicksburg), & then take a coast packet & go on to New Orleans. We shall reach Memphis tonight, & if I had the children along, we would turn out & hunt up Julia Koshloshky.

We are having a powerful good time & picking up & setting down volumes of literary stuff. I take a trick at the wheel occasionally, & find the mechanical work of steering a steamboat as familiar as if I had never ceased from it. But the “upper” river! It was as new to me [as] if I had never heard of it before. However, I recognize the river below c Cairo—I know it pretty fairly, though some of the changes are marvelous. For instance Island No. 10 used to be as close to shore as from our front door to Holbrook’s: now it lies away off across the water as far away as the Courant office. Of course the island is where it was, but the shore has been eaten away to that prodigious extent.

Telegraphed you from Cairo last night. Shall telegraph you from Memphis tomorrow morning.

Good bye, my darling Livy, & kiss everybody but Jean for me.