5.30 P.M. W. in his room. Had not yet been out—though he "hoped" to "get out in the cool of the evening." On the table a big bundle of Posts which he wished me to send off for him—tied up by a fatty string. Also, a postal to Ingersoll, thanking him for "coming over" for his "speech" for "the money." Said he had "sold a book to one Sears," at some distant point: writing, as precaution, for acknowledgement of receipt of the book. Returned me Current Literature of which he had read Gossip of Authors and all corresponding matters. As per my promise to Bucke, I urged W.'s preface to O'Connor's book. "I have not started yet, but I shall do it—I feel it a religious duty."
Again and again he said: "I enviges you your after-talk with Ingersoll"—and when I gave him some specimen blocks of it again—"It must have been great—it has a significance I cannot evade." Adding then—"He is a child—a child of nature"— and again: "I hardly supposed Ingersoll was such a fine sample of a man—a fine physiological as well as spiritual fellow." And further: "And after all that is the whole secret—to be a child—to be simple—to take no intricate ways to accomplishment."
Had kept a list of those to whom he sent copies of the Post—which he showed me. "They are most of them abroad"—explaining—"I shall probably send off a good many more—add them to that list." Was "perfectly willing to stand by the record given Ingersoll." "The whole evening" was to him "an astonishment—a revelation. Such a spontaneity—such good heartiness—and climaxing all, such a speech—oh such a speech!"
Laughs repeatedly over "the minister, Cake"—who "out-Heroded Herod in coming here"—proposing—"communal marriages, in a way—in my parlor—the profits to be divided between poet and priest!" And he laughs over it with great zest.