
Hot unpleasant weather—under a bad spell (caving in feeling generally)—this is the third day—Still I get out in the wheel chair—was out to the river at sunset yesterday an hour—sleep & eat fairly yet— (made my breakfast of a dish of raspberries and Graham bread)—pulse fair—we have a good letter from Sarrazin wh' you will see in the pamphlet —(did I mention Rossetti's?)— Horace delays a little, to get these slow letters wh' probably is all right—even better—(tho' I wanted the pamphlet to be out at once)—Nothing very new or significant—a little German review in paper f'm Berlin—now sent by me to Mr Traubel to English it —will send it to you soon—Horace wishes me to say he will attend to having the little L of G bound as you desired, & send—Sylvester Baxter here yesterday—talk'd political reform & socialism strong—is going down to Kentucky (for the Boston Herald)—ask'd me as he left what word or message I had to give him—I said (a la Abraham Lincoln) there was a queer old Long Islander in my boyhood who was always saying "hold your horses"—(I like S B well—he is a good fellow, & a good friend.)
Sunday 30th 10—11 a m—Rather pleasanter, cloudy, warm yet—bad spell continued—have had my breakfast, a rare egg, some Graham bread and cocoa & am sitting here alone—been looking over the Sunday paper—rather quiet day—T B Harned stays the coming week up in the mountain country—have myself no great desire to go country ward for a few weeks—
Love to you all— Walt Whitman
