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Wallace is down stairs taking a lunch, & photoing Warry, (at my request)—nothing very new or distinctive—the N Y. papers are (I believe every evn'g) telegraphing questions here wh' are answer'd "Walt Whitman is not dead yet"—my disease is now call'd progressive paralysis with a more or less rapid tendency (or eligibility) to the heart—formidable isn't it?—the worst is there may be something in it—fine bright sunny day—am sitting here ab't as usual—head bad—water w'ks trouble bad—frequent visitors—Harrison Morris and Miss A Repplier yestdy

Nov: 1—noon—Still the same—J W W is going off in City of Berlin f'm N Y Wednesday mn'g—good slip enc'd ab't Schleimann's (almost) funny discoveries—cloudy half-raw day—

Walt Whitman