I rec'd your letter to-day, and I also rec'd your letter of Tuesday, (as I wrote Wednesday)—I will write a few lines to Lillie, (mostly for Aunt Sally Mead)—
I got a good letter from Jeff yesterday—Mother, Jeff is evidently feeling composed & well—of course he feels Matty's death very seriously, but I think he has recovered from the shock, and attends to his business as well as ever—They seem to be well situated at the Buckley's—Jeff writes quite a good deal about you—he writes about Mat's death—about her wishing to see us before she died—
I am writing this seated at my desk in the office—I come over to the office about 12—I do not feel very well, most of the time, but have spells when I feel much better, generally evening—I think the sun affects me—
Mother, we—I and the doctor—have talked much of the electric battery treatment—but as long as the head is affected, (the brain & nerves) they say it must not be applied, for it will do more harm than good, might cause convulsions—My doctor, Dr. Drinkard, says he will use it as soon as he feels it will do good—but the time has not come yet—I believe I told you I am taking iron, strychnia & quinine to give strength—
I wrote to Jeff yesterday—I send you Harper's Weekly, to-day, mother, it is quite interesting—I still hold my mind about getting a house here & shall certainly do so—At present my great hope is to get well, to get so I can walk, & have some use of my limbs—I can write, pretty well, and my mind is clear, but I cannot walk a block, & have no power to do any thing, in lifting or moving any thing in my room, or at my desk—Still I keep good spirits, better far than I would have supposed myself, knowing that I shall get all right in time—I know how much worse things might be in my situation than they are, & feel thankful enough that they are as well as they are—Mother, I was glad to get your letter of Tuesday, April 1. I have been reading the wreck of the Atlantic April 1st—I think it the saddest thing I ever read—
Well, mama dear, I will close—I hope you will have a pleasant Sunday—Love to you, dear mother, & to all—it is now about ½ past 1 Friday afternoon—I wrote to you Wednesday 2d April, which I suppose you got.
Walt.