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Bright sunshiny day—feels Spring—but I am suffering from the grip—it has caught me at last—am sitting here alone in my den.—nothing very new or different to write about.—I wish you w'd carry or send over this note to Eva—I often think of them all—I rec'd y'r good letter & thank'd you over & over for sending.—I keep at it yet (as I must while away the time some how—it is pretty heavy here crippled here this way, week after week)—write a little—expect to speak my "Death of Abraham Lincoln" piece in Phila: April 15 (if I am well enough)—

Best love to you & George & Ed & all— Walt Whitman