I went round last evening to call on Mrs Rogers,1 & thought perhaps I might find you there, but the house was shut up & nobody home—the lady opposite told me Mrs R was down to Bridgeton to her brother's—told me Jane was up Thursday or Friday to get some things—Jane said Mrs R was getting along pretty well, & w'd be home in Camden very shortly.
—And how are you? & how's all? (as they say down south) I got a long nice letter from Harry yesterday—he is well & hearty & seems to be having good times—I shall write to him to-day—Well the work on my new book "Specimen Days" is finished, & I feel as if a troublesome job was off my hands loc_gt.00026_large.jpg The enclosed adv't will give you some idea of it2—a great part of it was written down at the pond, the first three summers '76, '77 and '78 I was down there at your house—We could not get my brother Eddy boarded at the place I wish'd —he is out temporarily at a place a few miles from Philadelphia—
(While I am writing this it is a very pleasant quiet Sunday—as I sit here by my open window, a lady nearly opposite is playing on the piano and singing some good old hymns—"Old Hundred" and such—Keeps it up a long while—sounds first rate.)—
I am well as usual—Keep about on the same old round here day after day—read or write two or three hours, & then go out & over the ferry to Philadelphia—I don't know what I should do without the ferry, & river, & crossing, day & night—I believe my best times are nights—sometimes appear to have the river & boat all to myself—
W W