My dear Theo,

At last I have heard news of my furniture, the man with whom it is has been ill all the time, having been gored by a bull when he was helping to unload them. So his wife wrote me that this was the reason why they put it off from one day to another, but that on Saturday, that is today, they will send it. They have had no luck, the wife has been ill too and is not yet completely recovered, but there wasn't a word of reproach in the letter, except that it had pained them that I did not come to see them before leaving; that pained me too.

Enclosed I must send you an order for some paints. I have another study in the style of the “Harvest,” which is in your room where the piano is. Some fields seen from a height, with a road and a little carriage on it; now I am working on a field of poppies in alfalfa.

I have a vineyard study, which M. Gachet liked very much the last time he came to see me.

For the moment I have nothing else to tell you; a letter came from Mother, she had been at Nuenen and was longing for your arrival and to see the little one. A good handshake for you both.

Ever yours, Vincent