know what he was trying to do, which colors your whole attitude, or you know that he's in debt and the income tax people are taking his house. I flatter myself that if we had lunch together we'd be friends, but suppose we became enemies? The notion for a play which you have in mind might appeal to me; then if I wrote it we'd differ over the results. But the chances are I wouldn't like it, since I'm captious in such matters, and the rejected proffer would rankle.
This is a long letter and I hate writing letters, but I respect your work (and your target eye) too much just to say yes or no and let matters slide.
Not for publication, of course.
November 17, 1937
Dear Mr. Brown: 1
Your letter followed me to Maine where I was exploring a little wilderness on my own account. Your description of the St. Lawrence in conjunction with Parkman leads me to believe that I shall look into Canada some time, at least along the edges.
Also my first act on returning to the vicinity of a book store was to purchase Parkman complete and begin to find out how much I had missed by not reading him. I wish I had the volumes you read with the under-scorings and perhaps I shall be driven before I am through to beg for a personal consultation with you. Being certain so far only of