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An incipient "cold in the head" (from an open sash behind me two hours yesterday toward evn'g forgotten)—may pass over lightly—may grow worse—(generally of late seems to settle on, merge in bladder trouble)—Otherwise matters much the same—partial bowel action (thankful for that)—half sunny weather this forenoon, rather cold—The "Magazine of Poetry" from you came—all looks better than I w'd have anticipated—pictures, print, paper very fair—I see I appear quite largely—good biographic sketch f'm y'r pen I accept & like well—quite many names I had not heard before—rather an apotheosis of good mediocrity isn't it? & why not?

Feb: 5 noon

Nothing special—I am sitting by the stove alone—partial bowel dejection an hour ago—no letters rec'd this morn'g—sell two copies Nov: B to-day—I send papers & p[ost] cards to O'C[onnor] every other day—nothing very late from him—cloudy dark raw here like snow in prospect—

McKay is going off "on the road" (book selling &c) in ab't a week—takes the new bound big book" with him—wants of me, a formal pledge that there will be no more complete works like this issued by me—but I refuse—(altho' I feel confident there will not, yet I prefer to keep it open)—I sell the C W to McK h'f calf bound for $4—so you see I don't indeed make much—will soon send you a printed slip of the Sarrazin fragment as the proof from K[ennedy] has come in the 2 p m mail. It seems but a fragment, but a typical one—Y'rs came to-day. The sun is out shining at setting—

Walt Whitman