7.30 P.M. W. on his bed. Had spent an improved day. Voice still bad, however, and chest choked. But looked well. Fire in stove burning lustily, through the half open door throwing about the room fugitive gleams of light—sometimes in the direction of his face and hands. He was rather facetious about Good Friday (tomorrow). Was it a holiday? And upon yes, adding—"Well—that is one thing religious traditions do for us anyhow—or theological."
I left with him a big bundle of Bruno books sent to me by Brinton. He smiled upon the bundle. "It is a liberal one, anyhow—no doubt a plenty; and we will try to do justice to it."
Spoke more hopefully of the probability of appearing before the Club on the 15th; and of getting out of doors. "I should think, looking out, taking it in visually, this has been a great, great day!" As it had—mild and sunny to wonder. A great relief to find him and it so much improved.