William D. O'Connor to Walt Whitman, [15] June 1883
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Washington D.C.
June 15, 1883
Dear Walt:
I have yours of the 13th, and am rejoiced. Today is the 15th—the day the book is to appear.
I am getting better, and hope soon to be myself again—A bandaged hand prevents my writing, and everything is in arrears with me.
W.S.K's notice is 
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gratifying. As soon as I get the free use of my hand, I will write to him, as you
suggest. I read some time ago his article on you in the San Francisco magazine.
Nothing will ever please me like knowing that my Bucke letter stands as it does with
you. This is the king's signet. Your compare of it to '93 is magnificent 
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the retribution is only partial. As Willie Winter says, there is "a Himalayan stack"
left—little he knows how Himalayan. Little beast!
The more I think of the recent Tribune review, the more I am amused. It betrays the
writer's sense of having been spanked, so thoroughly. There is a kind of surprised
meekness in the tone of it. His plea that I ought to hear 
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particularly good. It reminds me of a story Henry Peterson told me. At school a boy
came up, and said, "Say, Peterson, do you like frankness?" "Yes," replied Henry,
"I do." "Well, then," rejoined the other, "I think your sister is the ugliest girl I
ever saw in my life." This seems to be the Tribune idea of "frankness" also!
More anon.
Faithfully W.D.O'C W.W.