Well, Mauve immediately installed me in front of a still life consisting of a couple of old clogs and other objects, and so I could set to work.2

And I also go to him in the evenings to draw. I’m staying near Mauve in a small boarding-house where I pay 30 guilders a month for bed and breakfast.3 So if I count on the 100 francs from you then I can manage. And Mauve gives me hope that I’ll be making something saleable quite soon. Anyway, Mauve said, ‘I always thought you were a bloody bore, but now I see that this isn’t so’, and I can assure you that these plain-spoken words from M. give me more satisfaction than a whole cartload of Jesuitical compliments would give me.  1v:2 Mauve may write to you himself soon.

‘Meanwhile’ I’ve been to Amsterdam.4 J.P.S. was rather angry, although he expressed it in more polished words than God damn you. But all the same, I don’t regret my visit there.

What to do now – because I must tell you that I didn’t return less in love than I went.

Not because she encouraged me, though. On the contrary, for a moment or rather 24 hours or so she made me extremely miserable. But on reflection, I thought I’d noticed from a certain something that ‘things are progressing anyway’. On reflection, I say, reflecting on more than things romantic and sentimental.

But it’s becoming less and less like ‘picking strawberries in the spring’5 — so much the better – the ‘strawberries’ will crop up later in their own good time!

I also went briefly to see Willemien, who looks well and healthy and cheerful. What a sweet girl she’s becoming, or rather is.6  1v:3

I’ve also been to see Mr Tersteeg, and of the painters I’ve met (the merry) Weissenbruch7 and Jules Bakhuyzen and De Bock.

In short, Theo, every day I’ll become more of a realist in all things, I think. She, thank God, is also something very real.

Well, I send you regards, also from Mauve and Jet, and believe me,