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  Dear friend Walt—

As I sit here in the office with nothing to do, I thought that I would write a few lines to you: I don't know as I have anything to say that will be news to you, but thought I would write more for practice than anything else. Ben has gon​ gone​ away today but Geo. Fox is here with me, Ben will not be home for a coupel​ couple​ of days or more, he has gon​ gone​ to N.Y.​ I don't feel very well this afternoon, have got the head-ache as usual, worse this A.M.   than I have had it for sometime. The folks and I have commenced to miss you aready​ already​ , they were talking of you as soon as you left. I wish you was down here with us; when you came down Debbie said to me, it seems like home now Mr. Whitman is back: I wish you would put the ring on my finger again, it seems to me there is something that is wanting to compleete​ complete​ our friendship when I am missing you. I have tride​ tried​ to studdy​ study​ it out but cannot find out what it is. You know when you put it on there was but one thing to part it from   me and that was death. Isn't it a fine day out, it does not look like a Fall day, more like a day in April, although there is no birds singing, but still I think that the day has more the ppearance of a Spring day than a Fall one. I think I will bring my letter to a close for I have to make out some bills for the Freight-master. Good by.

Ever true [damage] friend, Harry Stafford

P.S. Write soon, and come down when you can. Yours.