
You can hardly imagine what pleasure it gave me to see your bold strong hand again on
a letter, you look as well as ever in that address, & it is such a satisfaction
to know you are really better. I believe now you will come out of this crisis as
you have out of
so many others & be yourself again. It is too bad that you have to be cooped up
in that way. If you could only get up strength of body & will to get out!
What do you eat? I have made the discovery that raw clams are very
strengthening & that the juice is a tonic, but I need not tell an old Long
Islander like you the virtue there is in clams. I eat them from the shell without
any seasoning. Try some. This cool weather I know you enjoy.
It sounded so good to hear you
speak of its raining. It is dry as a bone here, no rain for many weeks, my potato
crop is cut short 50 per cent, & all my young vines & plants are suffering
much. Indeed we have had no rain to speak of since the great snow storm in March. I
hope O'C. is really mending. If he comes to Camden let me know & I will
come down too & see him. I try to keep absorbed in my farm operations. It is
much better for me than to mope about nibbling at literature. I want to get
a sniff of salt
water again this summer or early fall, & I do so hope you will be well enough to
join me. I know the sight of the sea would give you a lift. We are all well. My
regards to Horace Traubel. Tell me something about him when you
write again. I am very anxious to see November Boughs I do
no writing at all. Send me a card when you are in the mood.