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  Dear comrade B O'D & dear friends & comrades all men & women—

Y'r letter (postmark'd Melb: April 18) came this forenoon & was of course welcome—so you have safely rec'd the big books & the pictures, wh' is a g't relief to me—I send you same mail with this the 2d annex "Good-Bye my Fancy" stitched sheets unb'd (but a good copy)—Am still holding out—low condition & sick & near at the end of the rope—(but all that will manage itself without talk)—

So y'r country is forging away at separate identity & independence—like marriage to grown people it is the thing to do, perhaps every way proper & indispensable—but how it will all turn out is in the mystery & fortune of the untried unknown to come. (Seems to me for a century the British gov't has upon the whole been more a loving parent, indulgent & liberal—than any querulous captious one, to its colonies all)—Good bye for this time, dear B, & all dear friends—& God & God's peace be yours—

Walt Whitman

The last photo pict: "at 90" is the truest—the London Ill. News one is disagreeable foxy —

Can you get there the N E Magazine for May 1891?