Nothing special with me. Rainy & dark to day—not cold. Yours rec'd with Critic letter—A letter from Mrs: Costelloe this mn'g—all well & busy, baby growing & well—I am not surprised at the refusal to publish in C—the opposition & resentment at L of G. is probably as concentrated & vital & determined in New York (my own city) as anywhere, if not more vital—& I do not count the Gilders as essentially on our side—they are smart & polite but worldly & conventional—as to the literary classes anyhow I will get a few exceptional dips out of them—but mainly I will have to wait for another generation—But this I have long known—
—I am sitting here all alone to-day—I do not eat dinner these short days—only breakfast & supper—my appetite fair—had some buckwheat cakes & raw oysters for my breakfast. Shall most probably not write you at F[lorida] again—
Walt Whitman