Letter from Babbage.
once, this evening.
7. Thursday. In doors all the very cold,
sunny, blustrous day, a simoom of New
York dust raging abroad. Writing, making
a scrap-book of my �Evening Post� letters
and the like employments. Got a letter
from Babbage, containing a photograph of
Major Anderson, and a postscript to the
former from Will Waud, who has returned
to Charleston and seems to be in no hurry
to do so to New York. Talk of fight, of
attacking Fort Sumter prevalent, as heretofore.
At 7 �, Billington came up, stayed an hour
and a half, then I dressed and we turned
out into the wintry streets. After calling
unsuccessfully at Union Square for Bigelow,
who had gone �up the river,� we took a drink
at the Everett House and parted. Returning,
the time lacking ten minutes� of ten, I dove
into the loved basement. Mr. and Mrs. E.
there, Jim Parton�s mother, Jack and
Matty, the other girls having gone to bed.
Anon Miss Anne came in. I stayed but
half an hour, then returning to Bleecker Street.
8. Friday. In doors till 4, then down-
town, meeting Banks by the way, who ac-