Default Metadata, or override by section

  Dear Walt—

I have received papers from you straight along this week, and several came this morn for Anne, for which she is grateful.

I did not received my reporter's notes till this morn: They   are quite well, & afford me ample basis on which to build my account. I hope to have the article ready for you to see Sunday. The delay in getting it to me has been grievious—but there's nothing to be said now to save the accident.

All proceeds favorably with us here. Not a rainy day since our arrival. The days cool, in fact,   till yesterday. At last a swing about into fire & heat! To-day a big cricket–match on the grounds fronted by the north building. I am about to go in town with Doctor to dine with his Brother Percy. The Thomas orchestra & Campanini appear in London tonight. I want to go. Pardee is away, at Toronto—and   Morris has just been summoned north on a geological excursion (60$ a month & found).—Morris is sweet, sane, quiet—one of the best fellows so far swept into my arcana. Doctor looks to him & to Pardee to keep up the standard of the stock.

Ina is a beauty: I delight to look at her—to hear her talk.

The Prince of Wales business   has been stirring things here. Doctor thinks it bodes a fall of the stock of aristocracy—the throne.

The Gurd Meter Co. looks more like business than it did in the fall.

I have wandered   a good deal with the Doctor among his patients this time, & have picked up a vast lot of odds & ends of alienist information which I missed in my short trip in the fall.—A letter from Bush this morning.—

Last night Doctor & I spent at the office   studying up a scheme for our Whitman book. I will tell you about this on my return. Longaker writes Doctor a letter—very favorable. So the wine does you good?—

I got a short note fm George Wm Curtis just before I left Camden—too late to show you. I want to   use a sentence out of each letter, at the least I expect to take the noon train at London Saturday. This will get me in Phila at 7 Sunday morn.

Good bye! Doctor's carriage is at the door.

Eternal the vigil of love! Horace