This is to ask you to please send by goods train my two beds and the bed linen that are still at your place.
I think it will be wise to empty the palliasses, for straw will cost as much in transportation charges as it would to buy some new.
The rest of the furniture, my word, there is, for example, the mirror, which I’d very much like to have.1 You could stick strips of paper onto it to prevent it breaking. But the two chests of drawers, chairs, table, you can keep them for your trouble, and if there are any additional expenses you must let me know.
I very much regret having fallen ill on the day I came to Arles to take my leave of you all2 – after that I was ill for 2 months and unable
1v:2 to work. At present, though, I’m completely recovered again. But I’m going to return to the north, and so, my dear friends, I shake your hands very firmly in thought, and those of the neighbours, and please believe that up there I’ll still think of you all often, for it’s true, as Mrs Ginoux says, that when people are friends they are so for a long time. If by chance you should see the Roulins, don’t forget to give them my warm regards. So I’ll finish this letter hoping that Mrs Ginoux is completely recovered from her indisposition, and shaking your hand again. Believe me
I’m only planning to stay in Paris for a fortnight at the most, then I’m going to work in the countryside, that’s why take good care to put on the address to be kept at station depot.
Apart from that, if you were to write to me, my address in Paris is