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Very bad night—stupid day—Horace Furness and his father the old doctor (88) here to see me this afternoon—a splendid antique, but looks like a cadaver tho—Horace very deaf, gets along sort o' with ear trumpet—both real friends of mine & L of G. I sit here tiding it all over—am just taking my supper—a bit of toast bread & rasperry jam & small cup of coffee (first time in 10 days)—

God bless you all— Walt Whitman