
cor West. Camden, N. Jersey Friday afternoon Jan 30, 2 o'clock Dear Pete,
I am having another of my bad spells to-day—but it will pass over—I have had a pretty good time most of the week till last night—thought I was getting decidedly better—(& guess I am yet, & that this will pass over.)
Every thing goes on the same with me here. As I write this, I am sitting here alone as usual in the parlor by the heater—I have just been out, but it was so chilly & raw, I didn't venture off the block, but came back in 5 or 6 minutes—the air feels like snow.
The trains of the Camden & Amboy are going by on the track about 50 or 60 rods from here, puffing & blowing—often train after train, following each other—& locomotives singly, whisking & squealing, up the track & then down again—I often sit here & watch them long—& think of you.
I think I shall try again to get out, evening—sometimes it makes me feel better, after I get out in the open air, & move around a little

7:15 evening—Friday—
—I am writing this over in the Mercantile Library, 10th st. Phila. —I have felt better since 4 o'clock & have come out & crossed the river, & taken quite a ride up Market st. 2 miles in the Market st. cars. The cars are very nice, old style, cushioned, fare 7 cents—if you get a transfer you have to pay extra—the working hours are from 16½ to 18—they have the new alarm punch,—every fare or ticket,—rings a little bell every time you punch—I suppose you have seen it—they say it is quite a success, & they are introducing them in other cities—but it will get played out—
—Pete write how you are getting along—& all about the folks, every one I know—I am feeling as well as usual, as I finish this letter—Good bye for this time my loving son—
Walt—Dont you get discouraged at work—or on the road—I feel that we shall yet be together, & have good times just being with each other, no matter how poor