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Losses Joseph left today, we had great pain at parting. His father has died, & besides I can show him nothing more of draughtsmanship. I gave him chalks to work his way with, and the double barrel gun I bought in Philadelphia. He turned only once & did not raise his hand. It is spring again & our lives precarious. Here is the city, its squabbly shapes cocked about, then the marshes & mists & mud, then the great pelagic openness— the mind can't support the whole at once. I cut a blooming stick of wisteria & return to our room. 27 ...

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