From H. E. Darwin to G. H. Darwin 2 May 1866

Dearest Geo

Yr letter was most welcome. i wanted to hear of you & I wanted a little spur to write to you & now I have a quiet evening & can write you as good a letter as Providence pleases. I can't tell what I told you or what you know so firstly fordib me a twice told tale (if necessary) The Hensl^h. 5 days at Cannes were very delightful & refrexhed me very much. things had been & are rather dismal with us  E. gets no better & she is low about herself & dreads the getting home & wishes she had never come wh. does not conduce to a cheerful atmosphere, and then little Miss Smith is a rather trying little person. The girls have christened her Miff & I shall for the future call her so, as it saves xo much trouble & suits her so well—

We had some very sweet expeds together, one particlarly sweet one to a little village amongst the hills embosomed in oranges all smelling fit to knock you down & such a view—Oh dear abroard is nice & I don't know how I shall bear not to go again. My auspices are not favourable, but I do like it so. Now, Wales is very beautiful but there is a kind of richness & warmth & colour you never never can have in England— & I shd so like to see more of it. I wisht so today the Hensleighs wd have packed me up in their trunks & took me on with them. Well, Elinor had to give up Mentone & so the Hens. took me on with them.

It is a very striking drive from Nice here—the grand style of beauty cos the rocks are so precious bare and arid— A few brown sheep live on them & one feels no wonder the mutton is tough: We got here on Friday & our evening was a little embittered by various & horrible smells. Next day Hope & I & two donkeys went the most heavenly walk possible to imagine up towards the mountains the tops of which are fine grey crag & the sides the richest possible groves of olives & lemons—& now there is the most beautiful carpet of poppies & corn under which contrasts so well with their sad coloured coats—a field I passed today was absolutely dazzling  a bed of sc. ger^iums is dull compared to it, wh. doesn't I think say much for their farming. The sides of the hills are so steep the women have to carry the crops on their heads, such awful loads it looks quite horrible. The men poor dears, never do anything so fatiguing, it is invariably the women. Now is the lemon season & the smell of bruised lemon pervades the whole air, so 'licious, not near so heavy as the orange flowers of Cannes. This is such a much more beautiful place than Cannes. I grudge to think we didn't get as far as here & then halt. Oh! such lovely walks Sunday, Monday, Tuesday rain!! wh. made our spirits sink below zero, our only fomfort a piano, to wh. Eff sang us songies, went a nap & then we went a dismal little exped up the hill to a chapel with two horrid donkey girls who didn't know the way & made us all very X. We cd only go along sighing after sun & gradually the inky pall descended & turned into rain. The paths down are all so steep donkey riding is too unpleasant—they are paved & made into steps—not shallow ones either & the succession of jumps breaks ones back bone nearly. One says the donkeys are very good here & so I suppose they are, but I feel rather out of patience with all the poking & pulling & shouting they take to make em come on. They bend their whole souls on eating the green food by the way & that is not compatible with going on. Today the Hens set off in their [illeg] rather low about the weather— I came here (Reusion Suedoise) & am going on tomorrow with Louisa Erskine to join Miff & E. at Cimiez Nice – Pension Anglaise if you sh^d be took better about writing. It need be only one more leter to me now, as I shall be home in 3 weeks, or at least oon the road. I went a donkey exped with a stranger who rather bored me, but it was lousy & after getting rid of her I went a little turn alone, boldly walking through the river in a most unlady like manner. It is not a pretty river *P [diag here] *Q B to B is a stony bed & little streams run thro' it—my picture does not do justiceto the bed part of the river. I hope we shall all like Cimiez. I shall feel rather spoilt for anything else after this. I have not heard from my wicked Ma for such a time & I do so want to know how London is answering this time. My last accounts were dismal but I have heard colaterally that things are better—I think it all looks very fishy for Venice & the Hensleighs, at least I shall think them foolish to go if things don't look considerably up—

Well my back aches & a drowsy numbness etc I forgot you don't read Keats & wont' be able to finish my quotation. Hope has only taken two books with her & one she has give to me.

Goodbye dear Geo. I hope you are feeling better | your H.E.D

Providence has favoured the discursive style in this letter, but their are invisible links in my own mind when I have hopped wildly from one subject to another.