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  Dear Alma Johnston & John & all the girls & children big & little

A word at any rate to show I think of you (as I often do & deeply)—Am here yet in much the same condition as the last year—good spirits (sort o') but physically disabled almost utterly—Fine sunny days I get out in my wheel chair for an hour or two—generally however am anchored here in my big ratan chair with the wolf-skin spread over the back—have two daily good curryings (massages) & appetite & sleep continuing fairly—

Alma, I suppose you rec'd the little ed'n of L of G. I sent—

Love to you all— Walt Whitman

here is a little scrap I just cut out for John—