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Tuesday, October 1, 1889

     8.05 P.M. W. in his room, reading letters. Asked me immediately— "Did you know Harry Wroth?" And on my assent— "Did you know his brother Johnny?" he continued—adding thereupon— "This letter here on my lap is from the brother Johnny—as I knew him, a boy—now grown almost—perhaps quite a man. Harry went to Albuquerque—in New Mexico—and became something there, I should judge. The

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Governor, the judge and the doctor are the famous men in these new places. I knew the Wroth family well here—liked them. The wife—there was a daughter too—a nice girl. The father was treasurer of the city once—got under a cloud."
"This boy Johnny writes me often—I enjoy the letters, too." Then again. "And there was a note—a postal—from John Burroughs, along in this evening's mail. He said he had his headache—felt in dubious humor—went to town and right off in the train. He stopped at Herbert's, but Herbert was out. Now he is at West Park again." I alluded to Ashton Bell's early favorable reading of Leaves of Grass. W. smiled. "So you think he takes some hold? Well—I almost pity the young man (or woman) who grapples with Leaves of Grass. It is so hard a tussle."

     Gave me a copy of To-Day containing an essay by Edward Carpenter. "Mrs. Kennedy—Sloane's wife—happened in today: came about eleven—that was one of my changes of garments." But he did not enlarge. I left with him the Sarrazin manuscript, at last finished by Morris. He examined it and was pleased. Thinks "seriously of publishing it" but does "not know where, how, as yet." He had a fire in his room, which he stirred now and then. Not looking extra well. I had been arguing with Ed to stay and take the University Veterinary course this coming winer. Explained to W., who said: "I did not know anything about his going away—he said nothing to me. But I can see the wisdom of your suggestion—how indispensable are the two hundred or more things embosomed in such an opportunity." As to department clerks at Washington: "It is a great mistake to suppose the positions all or mostly sinecures—some of the clerks work like beavers."


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