Letter from Edward Thomas to his wife, Helen Thomas. Archival reference: 424/1/1/1/1/91
[illegible]. I thought they were very pretty and healthy. But I
found that sculling (using two small oars) instead of rowing
as I have been used to (with one large oar) is very difficult,
and I don't know what I shall do if I have to take Mrs Noble
and company out in the summer.
By the way, has Mary had her photograph taken? If so, why
have I not had one yet? I [illegible][illegible] to see it. And Irene?
I have almost made up my mind to get Ruskin when I hear
from you again.
You will again be cheated of a talk with my Aunt, for she
doesn't leave here, I think, before Monday. Tomorrow night I
am going to

Lincoln College Oxford.
1.iii.99
My dearest friend.

I really have been exceedingly busy this week. My work -
mostly of a repulsive kind - has kept me up till very late; and
only after going to bed at 1 or 2 or 3 can I peacefully read a
few pages of the Three Musketeers or my Burton's
"Anatomy of Melancholy". Yet the work is not very good
work. It is fidgety and interrupted too often by my lust for
society, and in other ways: for instance I spent nearly an hour yesterday with
a man on my staircase, who was very drunk. It was amusing;
for he was strong and very merry. We went round to the
rooms of men we didn't like and upset them; he got into
another man's bed several times; finally I undressed him and
he slept from 9 till nearly 10 the next morning. He used to be
a friend of Cornish's, and is not a bad fellow; but the
[illegible] Cornish will scarcely notice him after such
exhibitions as last night!

In spite of all I have done just a little writing - at a paper on
Merton which I think I mentioned to you. But I am not
satisfied with it. I am eager to

NEW PAGE
begin something else. I am once again tortured with a
feeling that I lack subject matter, that my descriptive powers
ought to be used as the ornament not the substance of my
work. At present I have not made up my mind, but have a
plan for writing up the life of some obscure painter from
Vasari's "Lives of the Painters" adding inventions of my own: I
don't know, though.

I was out in a boat with Davies this afternoon on the little
river Cherwell. We were very noisy and got ourselves
thoroughly wet. I noticed several boatsful of girls from
Sommerville and Lady Margaret's, but I don't think Miss
Lucas was
[illegible] with her hostess, miss Bell [illegible].

I must go away now - even [illegible] soon.
Remember me to Mrs Noble and Irene and Mary.

Ever and Wholly your Edwy.
Goodbye my own sweet little one, Helen.

Adieu.