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Dear John Burroughs,

I have had another severe spell the last five weeks—head troubles, & stomach troubles, & liver troubles—the doctor thinks the latter the seat & basis this time of all, or nearly all—head-swimming, faintness, vomiting, &c—but for three or four days past have been easier—am up—didn't go out for three to four weeks, but am venturing out a little now—hope & quite expect to get at least as well as I was before this spell—

Eldridge has made me a call of two or three hours, (on his return from Boston to Wash'n​ )—Seems to be nothing very new among our friends at Wash'n​ —Marvin has written me twice—he has been reading your "Notes," & is quite possessed with them—also "Dem. Vistas"—

I am writing very little—have a piece, a melange, prose & verse, in the "Christmas Graphic"—(comes out in a week or so,) in which I say a brief word about Emerson—

To eke out my letter I send a scrap from paper about death of a young friend of mine—also another scrap—also another from London Academy, (which latter only please return when you write)—

Best love to 'Sula—Merry Christmas—do you get in the new house? Write me a good long letter—I wish I was with you—