Fairly with me these days—Did I tell you my last piece (poem) was rejected by the Century (R W Gilder)—I have now been shut off by all the magazines here & the Nineteenth Century in England—& feel like closing house as poem writer—(you know a fellow doesn't make brooms or shoes if nobody will have 'em)—I shall put in order a last little 6 or 8 page annex (the second) of my Leaves of Grass—& that will probably be the finish—
I get out almost daily in wheel chair—was out yesterday down to river shore & staid there an hour—cloudy weather now fourth day, but entirely pleasant—appetite fair—had oatmeal porridge, honey & tea for breakfast—shall probably have stew'd mutton & rice for early supper (do not eat dinner at all, find it best)—have massage every day—bath also—have a good nurse Warren Fritzinger—sell a book occasionally—get along better than you might think anyhow—have some pretty bad spells—some talkers bores questioners (hateful)—two splendid letters lately f'm R G Ingersoll—I enclose Dr B[ucke]'s, rec'd this morning—Love to Mrs: K— God bless you both—
Walt Whitman