Yesterday and last night was the hottest. Still, I
slept sound, have good ventilation through my
room, little as it is (I still hire the same room in L
street). I was quite wet with sweat this morning
when I woke up, a thing I never remember to
have happened to me before, for I was not dis-
turbed in my sleep and did not wake up once all
night. Mother, I believe I did not tell you that
on the 1st of June (or a while before) the
O'Connors, the friends I took my meals with so
long, moved to other apartments for more room
and pleasanter — not far off though, I am there
every day almost, a little — so for nearly two
7 97



The Wound Dresser

months and a half I have been in the habit of
getting my own breakfast in my room and my
dinner at a restaurant. I have a little spirit lamp,
and always have a capital cup of tea, and some
bread, and perhaps some preserved fruit; for
dinner I get a good plate of meat and plenty
of potatoes, good and plenty for 25 or 30
cents. I hardly ever take any thing more than
these two meals, both of them are pretty hearty

— eat dinner about 3 — my appetite is plenty
good enough, and I am about as fleshy as I was
in Brooklyn. Mother, I feel better the last ten
days, and at present, than I did the preceding six
or eight weeks. There was nothing particular the
matter with me, but I suppose a different climate
and being so continually in the hospitals — but
as I say, I feel better, more strength, and better in
my head, etc. About the wound in my hand and
the inflammation, etc., it has thoroughly healed,
and I have not worn anything on my hand, nor
had any dressing for the last five days. Mother,
I hope you get along with the heat, for I see it
is as bad or worse in New York and Brooklyn

— I am afraid you suffer from it ; it must be
distressing to you. Dear mother, do let things
go, and just sit still and fan yourself. I think
about you these hot days. I fancy I see you
down there in the basement. 