Default Metadata, or override by section

 

"The same subject continued"—good bowel passage last evn'g— my sailor boy nurse (Warren Fritzinger, he is just making up the bed) had a letter from Ed this morning—so he got there all right any how—buckwheat cakes & honey for my breakfast—Did you not see (he got £250 for it) Tennyson's "Throstle" & a burlesque of it in one of the papers I sent you? Gosse I sh'd call one of the amiable conventional wall-flowers of literature (see Thackeray—"Yellowplush" I think)—we too have numbers of good harmless well-fed sleek well-tamed fellows, like well-order'd parlors, crowded all over with wealth of books (generally gilt & Morocco) & statuary & pictures & bric-a-brac—lots of 'em & showing first-rate—but no more real pulse and appreciation than the wood floors or lime & sand walls—(one almost wonders whether literary even Emersonian culture dont lead to all that)—

—Toward noon weather here turns to rain—bet'n 12 and 1 I had a good massage, pummeling, &c. bath also & have had a visit f'm some of the Unitarian conference—y'rs of 29th rec'd—my head, hearing, eyes, bad to-day, yet I am feeling pretty fairly—a present f'm R P Smith of a cheque for $25 to-day—sent him the pk't-b'k Morocco ed'n L of G—Mrs: Davis off to-day to Doylestown, Penn: (20 miles f'm here) to visit & comfort a very old couple—returns to-night—my sailor boy has just written to Ed & has gone to the P O to take it—it is towards 3 P M & dark & glum out & I am alone—have a good oak fire—am sitting here vacant enough, as you may fancy (but it might be worse)—have myself for company, such as it is, any how—God bless you all—

Walt Whitman