These letters were almost all addressed to the members of Richard Harding Davis's immediate family, and they give a veracious picture of the more intimate and personal life of the writer. They are tactfully edited, with a minimum of explanation and comment, and, except in the latter chapters, the selections have been wisely made. Edited by Charles Belmont Davis.
cenes, there was always a mountain pass--the mountains being composed of a chair and two tables--and Richard was forever leading his little band over the pass while the band, wholly indifferent as to whether the road led to honor, glory, or total annihilation, meekly followed its leader. For some reason, probably on account of my early admiration for Richard and being only too willing to obey his command, I was invariably cast for the villain in these early dramas, and the end of the play always ended in a hand-to-hand conflict between the hero and myself. As Richard, naturally, was the hero and incidentally the stronger of the two, it can readily be imagined that the fight always ended in my complete undoing. Strangulation was the method usually employed to finish me, and, whatever else Richard was at that tender age, I can testify to his extraordinary ability as a choker.
But these early days in the city were not at all the happiest days of that period in Richard's life. He took but little interest e
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