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Our fine weather—upon the whole the finest December we ever had here—has changed, & to-day is dark & sulky & dripping—My fair feelings continue—the bowel action reasonable—&c. &c.—I enclose a sort of dedication for one of the Vol's. for you to keep for yourself—It ought to be inserted, cut & fitted properly by an expert—a book binder if you can have the deftness of such an one—When the books went I was unable to get up out of bed, & was in a horrible plight, with only the wish to get the Vols. sent to you while I c'd direct it—or I sh'd have written in then—I sent round to the printer's to get the corrections made—some more impressions struck off—but will do so if you have the least wish—I will soon send you a few copies as they are, with the accented e in Goethe scratch'd out, (wh' is very easily done.)

Y'r two letters came this morning—I am sitting here in the big chair—have eaten some ice cream — drank a cup of milk for my 2 o'c luncheon— Ed Wilkins is snoozing on the couch near—& so to-morrow begins with 1889 with us all—

Walt Whitman