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Dear Mr. Whitman:

Thank you very much for the "Two Rivulets," which came sparkling, and dancing, and babbling into my house this morning. I have long been acquainted with your writings, and have taken a great interest in them. I wish you had given me a line to say what you were doing, and how you were. I trust the world uses you fairly well, but I do not think it is a world that is much to boast about. Mr. Tennyson has been in London for the last six weeks, and now he has gone to his home in the Isle of Wight. I have often heard him speak of you, and about you, in a way that would be gratifying to you, as "Walt Whitman, the Poet," and "Walt Whitman, the man," and I like your portrait. It reminds me a little of that of Isaac Walton.

I am, very sincerely yours, Frederick Locker.