February 2 Monday – In Hartford Sam wrote to James Whitcomb Riley in Indianapolis, thanking him for the “darling” poem (“Erasmus Wilson” collected in Neighborly Poems 1891) sent on Jan. 30. Sam claimed Riley was “the only man alive” who could read his poems “exactly right.”

In the fine ‘Ras Wilson poem you’ve flung in some more of those things which make my mouth water for an elder time, & a big toe with a rag around it. One time or another you’ve got them all in, I believe — except, perhaps, p’simmons & p’cons; & maybe red haws. We hadn’t p’cons in Missouri — had to cross over to the Illinois bottoms.

This is my tenth day in bed with rheumatism. There is less recreation about it that you would think [MTP; see also Gribben 579]. Note: Sam’s rheumatism, which affected him sporadically through this period, made writing difficult.

Frederick J. Hall wrote of receipt of “a pleasant letter from Mr. [Thomas] Donaldson this morning asking me to come to Philadelphia some Sunday and talk the matter over with him.” Thomas Donaldson was an expert on Indian life and culture; Sam and Hall were contemplating publishing a cheap trade book about Indians. Hall added he’d been “unable to get track of Mr. [Isaac] Bromley,” the journalist, who was working for the Union Pacific Railroad [MTNJ 3: 601n95].