Sunday Morning, March 30, 1890

     9.50. Saw W. in his own room. Reading The Press. Just up—late—later breakfast. Complained that his cold (much affecting the eyes) was severe and had disturbed his sleep. But after his wash had felt refreshed. Gave me a letter of Bucke's in which B. inquired if W. was to speak anywhere April 15th, B. proposing to come on. W. then inquired after my own reading—also concerning the New England Magazine piece—was it not about time I had sent this? "Only nothing is improved any by undue haste."

     I have an idea his cold comes from his sitting on several damp nights last week at the open parlor window.

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