To Maxwell Perkins, 9 December [1931]

Summary

Dec 9

Dear Max:—

After I finished the book went down to Piggott for a week—back yesterday—intended to write you there but got up at seven every morning and hunted quail until dark—one drink—Supper—bed—out again with the dog—Best quail shooting ever—The way it was when I was a boy—country lovely in the fall—

When I got back there was your letter about Archie gone to H.M. and one from him about how bad he felt at being forced to do it— I’ve just written him how you wrote me and put me on my honor not to write him what you’d written telling him about it now that there’s no longer any need not to—

Your point of honor in not wanting me to write him made me feel badly because I could have out-urged Linscott and it is silly to stay with H.M. after what happened— But couldnt write him after the way you put it— Well I dont have much luck getting you writers do I? On the other hand how many good writers are there? At least I’ve never gotten you any punks nor flashes in the pan nor imitators— No need to get any more second string Hemingsteins because I am going awfully damned good—

When we get to Key West—the 15th or 16th unless present possible complications hold us up—which god forbid—I’ll get the bulk of the book re-typed and send it to you—following with the appendixes as ready—If it’s to be out in Early fall we might run some pieces at irregular intervals—will talk about that later—

Cape wrote something about having the illustration plates made in England— nothing Jonathan and I have ever done together turned out right so am suspicious—on other hand plates might be made economically and well in England with falling pound— But the financial end of that is your hard luck to figure out—