“Now replace the stone, my child. And she found herself able to do nothing of the sort. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him. He’s been 274 lookin’ a little down lately. "Before you go, bring me the bottle of pineapple rum I opened yesterday. Funny codgers, aren't they?" he said.
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