Here am I at home again seated in my Shanty. My mind is constantly reverting to the pleasant little visit I made you, and so I thought I would sit down and write you.

  I regret exceedingly that I was so interrupted in my enjoyment while at Concord by my “aches and pains.” My head troubled me until I had to go within about 20 miles of home, when the pain passed off and my spirits began to revive. I hope that your walks, &c, with me will not harm you and that you will soon regain your usual health and strength, which I trust the cooler weather will favor; would advise you not to doctor, but just use your own good sense. I should have insisted more on your coming on with me had I not felt so ill and in such actual pain the day I left—but I want you to come before the weather gets uncomfortably cool. I feel much your debtor, for through you and your Walden I have found my hopes and strength in those matters which I had before found none to sympathize with. You have more than any other to me discovered the true secret of living comfortably in this world, and I hope more and more be able to put into practice, in the meantime you will be able to extend your pity and charity. You are the only “millionaire” among my acquaintances. I have heard of people being “independently rich,” but you are the only one I have ever had the honor of knowing.

  How charming you, Channing, and I dovetailed together! Few men smoke such pipes as we did—the real Calumet—the tobacco that we smoked was free labor produce. I haven’t lost sight of Solon Hosmer, the wisest looking man in Concord, and the real “feelosopher”! I want you to see him and tell him not to take down the old house, where the feelosofers met. I think I should like to have the large chamber, for an occasional sojourn to Concord, It might me easily tinkered up so as to be a comfortable roost for a feelosopher—a few old chairs, a table, bed &c, would be all—sufficient, then you and C. could come over in your punt and rusticate. What think of it? In the mean time come down to Brooklawn, and look about with me. As you are a little under the weather, we will make our peregrinations with horse and wagon.

  With much regard to Channing and my kind remembrances to your parents and sister, I remain,

  Yours very truly
  D’l Ricketson