| Author(s) | Karl Marx |
|---|---|
| Written | 10 June 1869 |
MARX TO HIS DAUGHTER JENNY
IN LONDON
Manchester, 10 June 1869
My dear child,
I was firmly resolved to leave Manchester yesterday. But on the pretext, that, during the first week of my stay, I had been an invalid, Engels insisted so much upon my remaining here till Monday next, that I had to give way.[1] He is really too kind towards me to seriously oppose such a whim on his part.
On our three days' trip to the Devonshire Arms, near the Bolton Abbey, I made the acquaintance of a most strange fellow, Mr Dakyns, a geologist, who lives transitorily in that part of Yorkshire in order to make a geological survey. En passant, you ought to know that a geological map is taken up of all England, under the orders of government, and under the leadership of Professor Ramsay, of Jermyn street. Moore is himself a geologist. By him Engels and Schorlemmer became acquainted with Dakyns who lives in a farmer house, in midst of a Yorkshire wilderness. That farmer's house was also an old abbey, and the lower part of it still serves as a chapel. It was to see Dakyns that we set out for that part of the world. Dakyns looks much like a German peasant of stunted side, with a face always grinning a broad smile, something monkeyish in the formation of his head, nothing British about him save the protruding upper set of teeth which reminded me of the late Mrs Seiler. His dress is about that of a slovenly and 'underdressed' farm servant, of utmost negligence. Cravat and such paraphernalia of civilisation he is a stranger to. The first impression he makes upon you is that of a