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Cloudy now the third day—Nothing very new—my little poemet (welcoming Brazil republic) return'd from Harper's Weekly rejected—I am feeling fairly—the suspicion (not at all decided) of fairer strength continued—the bad weather however has kept me in the last four days—rest &c: last night satisfactory—rare fried eggs, Graham bread, stew'd prunes & tea for my breakfast—am sitting here (same, same old story) in the big rocking chair alone in den—the elder of the two young sailor men, Harry Fritzinger, has just been up to see me—I like the two fellows, & they do me good (his brother Warren is my nurse)—I sent you "the American" with the notice of Sarrazins book in it—Send me word if you get the bundle safe—the Boston Transcript has printed a good little notice of the Compliment wh' I have given to Horace, as he likes to collect all such—I enclose Mrs: O'C's card just rec'd—She has in view to get an appointment as woman clerk in some Dep't there, & will probably get such—Donnely's (Cryptogram) pubr's have issued a little livraison of favorable criticisms—& sent me one—Shall I send it to you? or have you rec'd one? I send another piece ab't Dr Sequard—it is just past noon & I am ab't having my currying.

God bless you all— Walt Whitman
 

I am at home, but not yet sleeping in the home, as the stove has to be repaired, & the men are slow. Hope you are all right!

With love— Nelly O'Connor.