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Dear Sister

I suppose you rec'd the paper I sent with the notice of Brother Jeff's death in St. Louis last Tuesday—typhoid pneumonia. George went on—(must have arrived there this m'ning)—Jessie went immediately the first train—but poor Jeff was dead before she arrived. Lou was in here yesterday. Han is poorly but around the house & sometimes just gets out. Ed is well. I am rather poorly at present—the grip, bladder trouble & (probably) catarrh of bowels (quite a snarl altogether)—but I sit up here—read & write. I suppose you got the magazine I just sent—Love to you and all & God bless you all.

Walt Whitman