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  Dear Walt,

I recd​ the books all right, also your letter & card. I am just back from Roxbury where I went a week ago to make sugar in the old woods of my boyhood; had a pretty good time, though too much storm. Only my brother is now upon   the old farm. I have to go back there at least twice a year to ease my pain. Oh, the pathos of the old place where my youth was passed, where father & mother lived & died, & where my heart has always been!

I have been pretty well since I saw you, except that I have been off my sleep a good deal. Just now I am having a streak of sleeplessness. I do not quite know what to make of it. To-day is   my birth-day, too, I am 49 today. I hope spring finds you better. I lately heard from you through J. W. Alexander, the artist. I think he will make a good picture of you. He is a fine fellow. I am glad to hear of the projected new book. I hope it is to be a reality. The title is good. My book "Signs & Seasons" will be out this month. I do not think much of it,—the poorest of my books, I think. No news with me. I hope to see you in   May, as I go to Kentucky. I hope you will not try to face the summer again in Camden. It is very imprudent. A bright afternoon here, with remains of last nights snow still lingering.

With much love J Burroughs see notes Oct. 2d 1888