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  Dear Mr. Whitman

Just a line to tell you that we are all well. We have come to the country for Easter, and it is most pleasant. Things are just beginning to come out, and the birds are arriving. The woods are full of primroses, anenomes, and   daffodils—I wish we could send you some.

Alys and mother have got home from Sicily, and I am here from Oxford.

A very nice etching of you has just arrived from Leon Richeton. He has printed 300, and is selling them. He says he has sent one to you.

 

Mother and I have been planting things in our garden to-day—I really think I should enjoy doing a little gardening—I mean to try it some day.

This is my last term at Oxford—that dear place—after that I shall be free, and may turn up in America before long. There is so much of the raw   material of literature in America—so much as yet unexpressed. I am anxious to try my hand in a modest way at it. The Quaker community in which I was brought up interests me immensely—I have always felt that the traditions of Philadelphia were much better material than the New England Hawthorne made so much of.

I hope you keep well. much love from all here, dear Mr. Whitman

Logan Pearsall Smith see notes July 31 1891