New York, Sunday, February 23, 1913.
Arrived here last Tuesday night, the 18th. Thursday on bad attack of grippe. Misery, of course, induced exceeding pessimism, but . . . . although physically miserable, my mental condition is hopeful.
Shall endeavor to remain in New York. Depends on whether I get well quick and get work quick, as I have just $24 in cash left from the $400 I saved in Havana, with $10 from railway refund coming sometime. If health and work come out, then it is only a matter of being able to keep it up.
If not pride humbled, back to . . . . . Apropos of this, I am not so sure but that I made a bigger fool of myself than others whom I consigned to that class.
Have been with old friend ——, first time in five years, with exception of one brief day. He has changed considerably. Now is all for experience and practicality—theories merely a sideline, and, of course, for both of us to live it must be so.