| Author(s) | Friedrich Engels |
|---|---|
| Written | 19 August 1883 |
ENGELS TO LAURA LAFARGUE
IN PARIS
Eastbourne, 19 August 1883
4 Cavendish Place
My dear Laura,
At last out of London.[1] As soon as I saw my way clear, I sent Percy (last Wednesday[2] ) over here to look out for apartments. He did his business well, and found excellent accommodation, not without difficulty. Two doors from the Parade, facing the Pier, fine rooms, no sun more than is wanted, good sea-view, good cooking, the only thing we are sorry for is that it could not be arranged in time for you to go with us. On Friday we arrived here, Pumps, babies and girl, Nim, Jollymeier (who felt a little out of sorts again but has picked up here at once and will soon leave us) and myself. First-class Scotch mist on arrival, fine rain off and on all night, very encouraging! But next day splendid, so that we could take our walks under the trees and show Nim a little of the place. To-day, Sunday, fine morning but becoming foggy, well we must take our chance, but anyhow so far the place looks quite different to what it did in the rainy weather when last here.[3] There has been an immense deal of building, the lodging part of the town has about doubled in size, all the fields towards Beachy Head and a good deal of the slope are built over. Pilsener Beer is flourishing and better even than in London. Nim and Pumps find things cheaper and better here than at home.
Emily Rosher's little avortorf[4] died yesterday, best thing it could do. I wrote to Deville at once announcing arrival of his ms.[5] At the same time or a little after I got also Sam Moore's translation[6] — so I shall have plenty to do here, besides working off my colossal arrears of correspondence.
The place is very full, but the style of the people seems to be more 'free and easy' than formerly. Even on Sunday morning the chimney-pot hat plays but a very poor part, and 'athletic' costumes run about pretty free.
Just now the whole party throng in again, awfully thirsty, Jollymeier has to open the Pilsener, and you conceive that it is no use struggling against the difficulties crowding upon me and stopping not only rational but even irrational correspondence. The second bottle has just been opened, the little girl is crawling about my knees, and so I give it up in despair. The whole colony send their kindest regards to you and Paul whose half-term we shall celebrate the day after tomorrow in an extra draft of Pilsener.
Nim wishes you, literally, 'to have a good look-out about her fortune, as she expects it soon to come in'.[7]
And so, dear Laura,
Yours most affectionately,
F. Engels