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Sitting here alone in my den—rather a bad day—this grip on me heavily—sweating a little the last hour & rather better—y'r good letter of 26th came at sundown mail & has somehow cheer'd me—had my supper & relish'd it—oysters,—havn't rec'd "Old Poets" yet but I believe it is in the Nov. N A Review—you will see how (intentionally) gossipy it is—I wonder whether I had better adhere to that way & style wh' is very easy to my fingers & rather pleasant as work to my mind—

Have been putting the last hour in a leisurely body bath—& shall have a good massage in a short hour f'm now, as I get to bed—Give my love to dear boy Pardee, & tell him I remember him well, & hope to see him yet—the Boston Trans gives an item to the Lafayette evening lunch & copies the "Midnight Visitor" wonderfully correctly as recited by me—the Ing: affair seems to be largely newspaperially commented on pro & con, & reported everywhere—shoals of vermin enemies of W W are roused too with their strange shocking slanders ("at wh' innocence itself is confounded" as O'C used to say)

29th Oct: am—dark wet forenoon—good bowel action—Wm Ingram here this mn'g—nothing new—ab't as usual with me—my love to you Horace—Tom is in the midst of the (local) political whirl—I finish as I sit here alone by the stove

Walt Whitman