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Superb sunny day—poorly to-day & yesterday—brain & belly lesions—eat little—am sitting in my big chair in 2d story room alone—moderately cool—y'r letters come—some of the biggest officers land office at Washington spell it adobie, & I like it best—David McKay has just return'd—I have not seen him—Heard no word lately from Kennedy or Mrs: O'C nor John Burroughs—Herbert Gil: comes over quite often—Horace regularly, daily—Ed W keeps well

Aug: 17—perfect day again—half-bad night last—ate an egg, Graham bread & cut-up peaches for breakfast—am sitting here—sufficiently cool—slightly clouded over

Aug 18—Sunday, just after noon—fine weather continued—sitting here, pretty weak & ill, but had a fair night—have been looking over the proof slips of Horace's dinner book—curious—all honey & sweet meats— a nice girl has just bro't me a bouquet, a great fine tiger lily, in a lot of fluffy green sprigs, loose—queer & very pretty

Am going to lie down on the bed—

Love to you

Walt Whitman