
Merry Christmas to you—ditto to frau—y'r card rec'd this mn'g—thanks—all is going ab't same—bad grip bad bladder bother, &c: &c:—hear often f'm Dr Bucke he is well & busy—made my breakfast of mutton broth toast & tea—am writing a little—will keep you posted & of any thing printed—(ups & downs—most of my things are yet rejected)—rather a gloomy three weeks the last—the death of my dear Brother in St Louis—cloudy & dark out—was out yesterday short jaunt in wheel chair, but cold & I hurried back—folks dont realize (& I dont care to dwell on or realize) what a wretched physical shack (a western word) I really am—What was that of Epictetus ab't "a spark of soul dragging a poor corpse shell around"?
Walt Whitman