
I was real glad to get word—& good word—from you this morning by your postal card of 25th—the early summer has always been your time & it seems to keep so just the same—Dr Bucke writes often & is the same good staunch friend—he is still at his Asylum, Canada, & full of work—some lecturing—Kennedy is well, living at Belmont still, & at work in Cambridge—his book ab't me not yet printed, but I believe it is settled to come out by the Glasgow publisher Wilson—
I rec'd a good & quite copious letter from O'Connor ab't a week ago—he is still very ill, appears to be little or no real improvement—nothing critical however—has paralysis—writes with the old fire & fervor
—With me things move on much the same—a little feebler every successive season & deeper inertia—brain power apparently very little affected, & emotional power not at all—I yet write a little for the Herald—&c.—Mrs Louise Chandler Moulton was here a day or two ago—pleasant visit—I have lately rec'd a letter from Prof: Hamlin Garland who is lecturing in Boston, wh' I enclose, with slips—Send to Dr Bucke, after reading—As I write, I am sitting down stairs in my big arm chair—My sister Lou (George's wife) has just been here—It looks like such a fine & bright weather I shall try to get out in my rig.
Walt WhitmanAs I finish I get a letter from Dr B. & returning two I sent him to read—I will enclose them also in this—


