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Friday, August 2, 1889

     7.30 P. M. Went to W.'s earlier than usual, having to go to town, to Old Man's Home. W. asked where I was going and who to see and asked— "Will you be going again?" Adding, "Then I will get you up a bundle of papers to take with you next time." Not out yet, the stormy weather still persisting. Looks rather thin and worn. But is cheerful. Voice strong and vibrating. Worst time always the forenoon—best, this. I did not stay long. Shortly went up to P.O. with Ed. W. had sent Dr. Bucke 2 copies of morocco book last bound. I asked jokingly, "Did you send him the bill?" Whereat he exclaimed— "A bill? No indeed—I should be ashamed to send him a bill!" Was very anxious to have Ed find out if he had put the requisite amount of postage on. As to the books, "they pleased me very well—very well indeed." Wrote in a copy for me while I stayed. I left page proof with him of the Bertz translation and reprint of circular announcing the celebration. Would "probably look over them tomorrow." Saw Billstein

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today and his reply was, yes, he could print well on cardboard. W. thereupon— "I will get you up an order so you can go see him early next week—size of card, etc." Will probably get some of the McKay pictures also struck off. I paid Brown his bill today, and left the cut with Billstein, subject to further explanation. Notice of expiration of insurance on the 8th came today.

     Asked me if I had seen The Century— "and the picture of Tennyson there?" And when I spoke of pain in Tennyson's face, W.— "That did not so much strike me, tho' I can see it is there, but the picture itself—oh! isn't it grand? Tennyson is a very old man, well towards the 90—and we must expect age in his face. What engaged me was the picture as a piece of noble workmanship. Did you notice his nose—what a tremendous nose he has! And yet it appears essential—the more you look at it!" Spoke of burden of taxation and laughed about his "farm," on which he had never paid a cent. "The wise old Franklin thought taxes very sure—and they are, doubtless, but taxes and that farm, while I held it or seemed to hold it—for I never really had anything to do with it—certainly never saw it—had very little to do with each other." Referred to Burroughs once as "inclined of late days to be pessimistic." Of "Looking Backward"— "I am looking through it: I can't say I am ravished with it: but it has a certain sort of interest."


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