Your letter has come and I was happy to receive it. Everyone here is doing well, and I suspect you were right about Delio; he certainly has your skin. You musn't worry about losing touch with the children, Antonio; it is hard, but you are in our thoughts always.
I am much relieved to hear that prison has become less arduous to you. It seems from your letter that you have found a means of dealing with what might otherwise become unmanageable. Your talk of the "impressions" with which you occupy your time makes me think of my own visions. The other night, for instance, I had a very strange dream:
I was walking into town and had to pass a lake. I knew as I passed that I would see a dead deer on its shore, because the deer had been a topic of much discussion. You were walking with me and we were surprised that no one had been able to remove the deer from the shore. As we passed, I saw that the deer was not dead, but frozen with fear. As we got closer, I saw that the deer was, in fact, not even a deer, but a dog instead. It looked much like a deer, however. We remarked to each other how strange it was that a deer-dog should be trapped on the shore of a lake, but passed by all the same. As we began to move away from the lake, I looked back into the dog's eyes. It appeared to look into mine, so I began to nod as if in agreement. The deer-dog then nodded along with me, matching my rhythm. Then, as if a spell had been broken, the deer-dog moved and came to my side where I could pet it. It jumped up onto me and got my dress dirty.
A strange dream, no? Perhaps you have some thoughts on it. I should like to write more but must go now; write and tell me if there is anything you need or that I can get for you.
p. s. the children include their love as well.
P. T. Barnum often had dreams of being attacked by a deer though, as often as not, it appeared as toothless. He said, "Sure it's all gums, but that thing's got jaws strong as hell."