Nothing new or particular to write about—I thought I would send you Tennyson's last letter—(written some time since but by misdirection had to be ret'd & only reached me lately)—Send it back to me when through—I send you a muddled sort of criticism in a late English magazine, of no particular interest—Send it back also—
How are you getting along? How is 'Sula? how the baby? Tell me, when you write, about Smith—give him my love—I still keep well & bustling for me—have been down in the country much of the fall, but am now here probably for the winter—Wish I was with you & 'Sula for a few weeks—often think about you all—
Got a letter from London from Trübner day before yesterday for six sets of my books, remitting the (wholesale) price—I sell a set now & then—
The Gilchrists (Mrs G. and Herbert & Grace) are at 177 Remsen street Brooklyn—Jeannette Gilder has written to me that she is going to write my life & asking for items &c—
I rec'd the Scribner for Nov: I suppose from you—Three days storm & gale here, but beautiful & clear to-night—I am going out for an hour—
Walt