[Cologne, first half of November 1848] 

Dear Engels, 

I am truly amazed that you should still not have received any 
money from me. I (not the dispatch department) sent you 61 

a J. Kéhler - > quite unchanged 

talers ages ago, I1 in notes, 50 as a bill, to Geneva, enclosed in a 
letter to the address you gave. So make inquiries and write 
immediately, I have a postal receipt and can reclaim the money. 

I had further sent 20 talers to Gigot and, later, 50 to Dronke for all 
of you, each time out of my cashbox. A total of some 130 talers. 

Tomorrow I shall send you some more. But inquire about the 
money. The bill included a note recommending you to one of 
Lausanne’s financial philistines. 

I am short of money. I returned from my journey with 1,850 
talers; I received 1,950 from the Poles. I spent 100 while still on 
my journey. I advanced 1,000 to the newspaper (and also to 
yourself and other refugees). This week there are still 500 to be 
paid for the machine. Balance 350. And withal I haven’t received 
a cent from the paper.” 

As regards your editorship, I 1) announced in the very first 
issue that the committee was to remain unchanged,* 2) explained 
to the idiotic reactionary shareholders that they are at liberty to 
regard any of you as no longer belonging to the editorial staff, but 
that I am at liberty to pay as high fees as I wish and hence that they 
will be no better off financially. 

It would have been, perhaps, more sensible not to advance so 
large a sum for the newspaper, as I have 3-4 court actions hang- 
ing over me,” can be locked up any day and then pant for 
money as doth the hart for cooling streams. But whatever the 
circumstances, this fort had to-be held and the political position 
not surrendered. 

The best thing—once you have settled the financial business in 
Lausanne—is to go to Berne and carry out your proposed plan. 
Besides, you can write for anything you want. Your letters always 
arrive in reasonably good time. 

To suppose that I could leave you in the lurch for even a 
moment is sheer fantasy. You will always remain my friend and 
confidant as 1 hope to remain yours. 

K. Marx 

Your old man’s a swine and we shall write him a damned rude 
letter.