Jany. 18th

This morning is beautiful.+ bright and clear + cold the thermometer at 9 o’clock when I went over to the Hospital was 30º below zero. There were only a few sick men, Brooks continues pretty low and tho weak still holds his own. After the hospital I had breakfast + then came to my room + smoked my pipe + am writing to you. So you see that you are associated with my pipe almost my only comfort up here. Not my only comfort now, for I have your dear letters to read + read again + again. Lizzie you have no idea how immensely your letters soothe + comfort me. If mine are only a twentieth part as much as welcome and useful to you then I am satisfied. So you recollect my once telling you that a lady once asked me to correspond with her daughter, and how I consented + never filled my promise thinking what a bore it was? The idea of writing to a girl! But now I am writing not to a girl but a woman, + to a part of myself. I do not take that great care to put down just what I mean in the choicest words, + take pains with the writing + attend to all the little minor points that go to make a letter amusing or entertaining, but I put down in succession those thoughts or events which happen to be uppermost in my thoughts at the moment. I seem to be talking to myself, only more so.