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Fearful heat here now a week & at present looks like continued—thro' wh' tho' I get along better than you m't suppose. Am taking the tonic—it (or something) relieves me the last two days of the worst of the weakness, caving-in & head inertia—but I feel it, the dose, for an hour after taking in my head & stomach very perceptibly & very uncomfortably—bowel action yesterday & also this forenoon, quite good—Ed stands it first rate—a note f'm Kennedy this mn'g, enclosed—nothing notable—he is half ill tho' this summer—nothing ab't his book—the printers are working at Horace's dinner book—

Have been dipping in the new French book Amiel's Journal Intime translated by Mrs: Humphrey Ward. He is evidently an orthodox conservative determined to stand by his (moth-eaten) colors, tho' modern science & democracy draw the earth from under his very feet—He is constantly examining, discussing himself, like a health-seeker dwelling forever on his own stomach—I heard it was a great book & going to be established—but I say no to both—his is one of those college pessimistic dudes Europe (& America too) sends out—

I am sitting here in my big chair—every thing still—just drank a great drink of iced lemonade (pleasant but non-healthy)—After a New York boy's slang, I conclude by sending you good roots

Walt Whitman
  Well-beloved friend:—

Thy card rec'd & welcomed. I too have rec'd wht I tho't rather cheery letters fr. Mrs. O'C. although mentioning her meagre funds. I have offered & agreed to return her $5.00—one of Wm's subscriptions, thinking one of my books wd be enough for her. We have invited her to come out & see us when she passes thro' Boston & may be able to advise & help her. Hope so. The wife of such a Philip Sidney of a man as O'C. demands chivalrous treatment if we wd emulate the virtues of him, so I think & shall act. Am feeling worse in health this summer & spring than is usual w. me.

  Sl. Kennedy.