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  Dear Walt:

I was very glad to hear from this morning and hope to be able to write you soon in extenso. I have been very sick and feeble for a month past, but am a little better. My eye got open at last, but is still bleary and bad. My present woe is a festered pen finger, sore as death, and preventing me writing. Altogether, I am pretty used up. Tell Traubel.—I feel dejected at your illness, but am comforted to know you are better. The bladder trouble is worst to think of. It is one of my afflictions, though without pain.—I will try to write soon.

I deeply enjoyed your reminiscence of the elder Booth in November Boughs, and wish you had made it longer. He and Rachel were the only vast actors I ever saw.

Always affectionately WD.O'C   see notes Dec 9 1888