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  Dear H G

I am still here in the little Camden shanty not much different from when you were here but more disabled perhaps in locomotion power & in more liability to head & stomach troubles & easiness of "catching cold" (from my compulsory staying in I suppose)—Mrs Davis is still housekeeping & cooking for me—It is just past noon & I am told I am to have a good rice pudding made in a big earthenware baking dish for my dinner—wh'​ suits me well—(I wish you were here to help eat it)—

—I see the Staffords occasionally—Mrs S[tafford] was here ab't a week ago, is well as usual—nothing very new or different with them. They are still on the old farm & store & expect to continue— I see Ed and Harry & Joe Browning occasionally—Mrs. Rogers, (Mrs S[tafford]'s sister) is dead & buried, ab't​ two weeks ago.

Thos: Eakins, portrait painter, has painted a picture of me—very different from yours—realistic—("a poor old blind despised & dying King")—When you write tell me ab't​ your pict: whether it has been on exhibition &c: also ab't​ the bust Mary Costelloe has— whether any thing has been done with it—Morse is out in Indiana yet—Rhys was in Boston at last acc'ts​ —I am writing little poetical bits for the N Y Herald— Pearsall Smith and Mrs. S. & Alice are going to London to live— a big bunch of white lilies scents the room & my little canary is singing gaily as I finish—

Walt Whitman

If you have a chance you may show this to Mary Costelloe & Wm​ Rossetti—to both of whom I send my love