image 1

image 2

431 Stevens st.
cor West.
Camden, N.J.
Oct. 24
Friday afternoon.

Dear son Pete,

I am still doing as well as when I last wrote—I have many alternations, but upon the whole have no reason to complain of the last ten days. My head has some bad spells, & a touch or more nearly every day, & my locomotion is still as clumsy as ever—but for all that I am happy in not having any of those spasms of three weeks since, & indeed I have glimpses again of my real self—have had two or three such, of an hour or two each—which I felt very encouraging. Your letter came Tuesday, & I wrote you a few lines on a postal card, which I suppose you rec'd next day. I went to Tommy Osler's, the young RR man's funeral last Sunday—it was near here—poor fellow, he used always to stop a minute at the window, & talk off hand & cheerful—Pete he often made me think of you, dear son—he was your age & size—he was an only son—I go out now about every day, my strength is certainly improving—shall go out this afternoon—

About an hour ago the big Adams Express wagon drove up to the door, with a box for me—it was 2 doz 2 lb cans of fresh Oregon salmon from St. Louis, from my brother Jeff—I am very fond of it for breakfast, can eat it every day—(My appetite is pretty fair, but I must have just the things I want, cant eat any others)—Pete your description of the old Evangelical Alliance fellows, as if they had just walked out of Noah's Ark, made me laugh heartily—you just hit it—

I have just got a long letter from Mrs. O'Connor—she is in Massachusetts—returns to Washington in November—How are Mr. & Mrs. Nash, & Ed, & all—give them my love—tell Ed I shall yet want him to build me that small house—I send my love to Wash Milburn—I am writing this up in my room, 3 o'clock, pleasant weather, sun shining, window open—I am feeling quite fair to-day.

Good bye for this time, my loving boy.
Walt.