1885 LETTERS FROM SIENA ID 3 



We have found very good quarters here, and have waited for 

 the weather to get warmer before moving; but at last we have 

 made up our minds to begin nomadising again next Friday. We 

 go to Florence, taking Siena, and probably Pisa, on our way, 

 and reaching Florence some time next week. Address — Hotel 

 Milano, Via Cerretani. 



For the last week the Carnival has been going on. It strikes 

 me as the most elaborate and dreariest tomfoolery I have ever 

 seen, but I doubt if I am in the humour to judge it fairly. It is 

 only just to say that it entertains my vigorous wife immensely. 

 I have been expecting to see her in mask and domino, but hap- 

 pily this is the last day, and there is no sign of any yet. I have 

 never seen any one so much benefited by rest and change as she 

 is, and that is a good thing for both of us. 



After Florence we shall probably make our way to Venice, 

 and come home by the Lago di Garda and Germany. But I will 

 let you know when our plans are settled. 



With best love from we two to you two — Ever yours, 



T. H. Huxley. 



To his Youngest Daughter 



Siena, Feb. 23, 1885. 



Dearest Ethel — The cutting you sent me contains one of 

 the numerous " goaks " of a Yankee performing donkey who is 

 allowed to disport himself in one of the New York papers. I 

 confess it is difficult to see the point of the joke, but there is one 

 if you look close. I don't think you need trouble to enlighten 

 the simple inquirer. He probably only wanted the indignant 

 autograph which he won't get. 



The Parker Museum must take care of itself. The public 

 ought to support it, not the men of science. 



As a grandfather, I am ashamed of my friends who are of 

 the same standing; but I think they would take it as a liberty if, 

 in accordance with your wish, I were to write to expostulate. 



After your mother had exhausted the joys of the Carnival, 

 she permitted me to leave Rome for this place, where we arrived 

 last Friday evening. My impression is that if we had stayed 

 in Rome much longer we should never have left. There is some- 

 thing idle and afternoony about the air which whittles away 

 one's resolution. 



The change here is wonderfully to the good. We are 

 perched more than a thousand feet above the sea, looking over 



