
Well Maurice every thing here goes on much the same, & fairly enough—As I write it is abt 1 pm, Saturday, clear but not sunny & neither cool nor warm—I have just had a midday currying—partial bowel action two hours ago—feel middling (but cold in the head, or catarrh or gathering or whatever it is yet)—get out a little in the wheel chair—they are all going out Mrs. D and all to an East Indian ship for two or three hours this afternoon—I told Ed to go too as he was invited, (& he will go)—the ship is here from Bombay, & our sailor boys know some of their sailors—We broke a big bottle of good wine yesterday & all of us (seven—me at the head) drank health & respects to Queen Victoria—(it was her birth day you know—)—
—My big dinner (wh' however I shall probably not eat, and only be there a few minutes if at all) is coming on swimmingly they say—Herbert Gilchrist is to make the responsive speech to the British toast to friends—Col. Ingersoll's coming is uncertain—not Howells nor Burroughs nor Aldrich nor Kennedy to be here—no word yet fr'm Stedman (Achilles laid up in his tent moody, am rather sorry but not to blame)—
Night—9½—Have been out twice to day in the wheel-chair—short excursions—T B H has been here this evn'g—150 dinner tickets taken now—y'r letter rec'd by H—(I have not seen it yet)—coolish temperature three days & now stopping sweat exudation & somewhat bad for me but well enough as I sit here alone every thing quiet, but some sailors from the ship down stairs
Sunday toward noon May 26 A clouded rather rawish day—Am going up to my friends Mr & Mrs: Harned's in an hour, in my wheel chair—to stay a few minutes & probably get a drink of champagne—(of which H always has the best & treats me to galore)—
—Havn't now had such a tipple for a year.
—Nothing particular to write—my head is a little heavy & thick—no pocket-book copies yet, but I count on them in a couple of days—All goes fairly as c'd be expected—
Walt Whitman
