Y'rs came to-day, welcome—I send "Magazine Poetry" only half thinking it may be a sort of curiosity to you—Mail it to Dr B[ucke] as he owns it & wants it back—O'C[onnor] is still room-fast & badly off—I am fearful of the worst luck (of wh' a long miserable helpless lingering condition is perhaps worst)—Sunny & cold here—I am ab't as usual—a cold in the head—
Walt WhitmanI've sent a Sarrazin to Baxter & to Harland.