I have just finished a letter to mother, and while my hand is in, I will write you a line. I enclose in my letter to Mother, a note from Hyde—nothing at all in it, except that Han is well, and comfortably situated—I have not heard a word from home since I left—write me a few words, Jeff, if mother does not, and let me know how you all are, and whether you have took the house or given it up. I suppose of course if every thing was not going on pretty much as usual, some of you would have written to tell me.
I am having a tolerable fair time here in Boston—not quite enough to occupy me—only two or three hours work a day, reading proof. Still, I am so satisfied at the certainty of having "Leaves of Grass," in a far more complete and favorable form than before, printed and really published, that I don't mind small things. The book will be a very handsome specimen of typography, paper, binding, &c.—and will be, it seems to me, like relieving me of a great weight—or removing a great obstacle that has been in my way for the last three years. The young men that are publishing it treat me in a way I could not wish to have better. They are go-ahead fellows, and don't seem to have the least doubt they are bound to make a good spec. out of my book. It is quite curious, all this should spring up so suddenly, aint it.
I am very well, and hold my own about as usual. I am stopping at a lodging house, have a very nice room, gas, water, good American folks keep it—I pay $2—eat at restaurant. I get up in the morning, give myself a good wash all over, and currying—then take a walk, often in the Common—then nothing but a cup of coffee generally for my breakfast—then to the stereotype foundry. About 12 I take a walk, and at 2, a good dinner. Not much else, in the way of eating, except that meal.
If I have any thing to communicate, dear brother, I shall write again.
Walt. Care of Thayer & Eldridge | 116 Washington st | Boston | Mass.