Good breakfast at 9½ of chocolate, toasted Graham bread & broil'd chicken — enjoy'd all. Have rec'd a nice letter this mn'g f'm Mary Costelloe, return'd to London city—all well—Pearsall S[mith] well as formerly, (one eye sight however quite quench'd)—Rec'd also an acc't (in Pall Mall Gaz: Oct: 28) of a visit to me f'm the good fellow, Mr Summers, M P, I believe mention'd to you in letter months ago—I will send the acc't to you—the two paper notices Boston Transcript & in the Phil: Bulletin, (of N B,) must have now reach'd you—they were sent.
Am pretty well, considering, but laggard & a dull headache most of the time—partial bowel action this forenoon—I don't get out of my room at all—the 6th month now—Mr Musgrove is kind active & considerate all through—dull, darkish, damp here to day—I sit here the same, the sash a little open'd—very moderate—
Sunday noon Nov: 4—Bright, sunny, quiet day—am feeling ab't my easiest—fair bowel movement—the big book gets on—title page has been made of a big medallion profile of me, (lettering on it)—suits me—am thinking (composing it now) of a short concluding note at end—will see how I can get it in shape—
Tom Harned & his brother Frank & young Mr. Corning have just call'd & spent a short half hour (I don't know but I find myself talking more than I used to—talking perhaps more than ever)—I enclose you several letters (I send them as a foil, your duties & works there must be dry)—if you don't feel to read them, put it off for a better season, or put it aside altogether—I suppose Edward Wilkins will be here to-morrow—Mr M, my present nurse, is sort o' vexed ab't it all—he is a good fellow too, & I am almost glum ab't his going—I liked him well—Horace did not, & has not—H remains & is perfectly faithful & I depend on him more than words could describe—y'r letter came last evn'g.
Best love to you & yours— Walt Whitman