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Monday, May 4, 1891

Monday, May 4, 1891

5:55 P.M. W. on his bed—had drawn a blanket over him—seemed spirited enough, though he said he felt "worn out." Had been out to the cemetery. "Mr. Moore urged it. And so, out we went. Bennett, here, took us—he has a couple of black colts, the finest, and harness to match—and I am ashamed of myself for my inability to enjoy the ride. But I'd no sooner started then I went all a-fuddle—and was three-quarters blind besides. Things progress—are nearer an end than I had expected to see them. You ought to walk out there, Horace, any evening—it is a short walk—you ought to see it—see the grand stone. Introduce yourself to Mr. Moore—you will like him—he has a genuine way—and as engineer, gardener, has a good deal to tell."

O'Donovan had also been over today. "He promises me photos of the work as it progresses." This had "also fatigued" him—he had, in fact, "been under pressure most of the day." And he thought, "I must be getting weak, weak, that these things—innocent enough—upset me." He alluded in our talk to a New York colloquialism "current when I was a young man""which would say, for instance, 'put up that window up'—urged with the greatest gravity. And there was a congregated series of expressions."

Mrs. Davis says, "Mr. Whitman won't be paler when he is dead than he was when he had alighted from the carriage and gone into the tomb. He leaned up against the wall—yet seemed to want to get away from the subject—spoke of the trees outside." And before he had come away he asked if the workingmen there drank beer and left a dollar with them with which "to take a big swig."

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