Down here for a few days2 I thought you would like to get news right from the midst of people & scenes you loved so well—I came down yesterday amid sousing rain & cloudy weather—but this forenoon it is sunshiny & delightful—I have just returned from a two hours ramble in the old woods—wintry & bare, & yet lots of holly & laurel—& I only wish I could send you some cedary branches thick with the china-blue little plums, so pretty amid the green tufts—
The Staffords are all well—Mrs S is much as usual, looks in good condition—I heard her singing this morning at her work in the kitchen before I was up—George has been well, & is so—Ed & Debby & Harry & Mont & Van & Ruth & little George all right—Jo Browning ditto—Jo & D had some company here to supper last evening—Harry is away at the RR office at Clementon (Narrow Gauge)—likes it—is home only at long intervals—Ed tends the store, & the nag Ned3 looks as well as ever—it is now nearly 12—& we are going to have chicken for dinner—My morning paper has just come from Phila: & I will knock off & read it—
Dec 31—Saturday noon—Well this is the last day of the year, & it has grown freezing cold—Mr S is out at the wood-pile chopping away—I hear the sound of his axe as I write—Mont went off early, he goes over to Clementon and works at telegraphy, learning & assisting Harry—comes home quite late—Ed is busy with customers in the store—Ruth is in the kitchen making mince pies for New Year's—Mrs S is just sitting down a spell in the old rocking chair, reading to-day's Phila: Ledger—the acc't of the Guiteau trial4—(I don't know whether you read it or not, but of all the strange things of this strange century, I am not sure but that trial is the strangest)—
We had a flurry of snow last evening, & it looks wintry enough to-day, but the sun is out, & I take my walks in the woods. Hienikin was here yesterday—Wesley Stafford & his wife (Lizzie Hyder you know) have just drove up—they are very comfortable at the old place by the pond, & Lizzie is reconciled & happy—
Herb, I thought you would just like to hear all the small news & gossip & so I have written it—O how shocking I felt at the sad sad sudden death of the dear one5—was a long time before I realized it as true—hope your dear mother—to whom I send best love—is beginning to feel something like herself again—tell her I rec'd hers of Dec 14, & will write before long6—All here speak of you with love, & send affectionate remembrances—My best love to Giddy7—
Walt Whitman