
I have just come from Oak Hill. My first visit to William's
grave since last July when I went away. The ivy that we planted is growing well, & I
plucked a few leaves
for you. By & by I can send you a root. Can you think that his body lies there? I can not realize it, yet I
laid him away. How very strange it all is. It is a perfect day, & the dandelions
are in bloom. Where do you think
William is, for that is only the worn out machine in which
he manifested himself while here. I wonder & wonder, & think of it all so much,
sometimes I almost feel him here.
I was glad of your letter. How I envy you your boy Horace! if I had some one to give me a lift in my
work, it would be a boon, but I guess my lesson in life is to learn to stand alone. I shall get to a place by & by where I shall have
some report to make perhaps, but now there is nothing to show for it all. I, too,
got a similar
announcement from Charles Eldridge, of his marriage. I hope
that he will be very happy. I trust that all is as well as usual with you.
Some day I hope to get time to write to Dr. Bucke.
