
I was just feeling to-day a lack in my soul—a gap—an idea that you had not been heard from—when—comes yr card. I had no idea O'C. wd have 'fits' It seems terrible. The letter I sent Burrougs Burroughs contained so cheery news that this last is an unpleasant surprise. Well this is the worst month in the year. Let us wait patiently for god's (nature's) grass & dandelions again. Death is no evil to good or bad.
I am reading Browning still; manage to extract considerable from his rubbish; he is a great fellow for subtle soul-searchings, & delvings in the past. But I can't heartily love any except our kind of men—cheerful—the Scotts, George Sands, Homer, Emerson, &c. Browning deals in the sad & horrible almost—[illegible]
By the way, I am feeling deep sympahty for poor Frank Sanborn. I suppose you saw the notice that his son—a promising
young fellow, 23 or so, committed suicide. Do you suppose it was love & money combined—the
cause—? He was writing a little for Springfield Republican. Sanborn père
had a col. in that paper about him, giving extracts from his verse-poems. They
were real pretty, unusually good, in some respects. Sanborn seems to be having a
tough time these days. May his philosophy & well stored literary mind stand him well
now!
Burroughs—has he gone into burrow? In one of his dark mumpish spells, think you? He don't answer me. I sent him a ply of new kind of wheat coffee some months ago & got a good letter. I send him a Transcript occasionally, with horticultural report. (I can't realize that you have been shut up there so long. You are a hero. I tho't you never cd stand it not to get to nature. Keep heart.)
I continue at my typographical business
Hope I hear from Paisley in a fortnight
goodnight & love—gloomy Sunday yesterday (outside) W. S. Kennedy March 18, '89 Belmont
