7:55 P.M. With W. about half an hour. He seemed to be dozing when I entered. Light on full; head resting on his left hand, elbow on the arm of the chair; Camden papers in his lap; Hedge's book on the bed. Had been writing some; a half-written page of manuscript on the bed—the fresh-inked pen laid carelessly near—the inkstand open. Looked up, smiled—"Oh! Horace: and with the paper, too." I had a roll of yellow paper (two quires) under my arm. Opened it—he was much tickled. "It is not often," he said, "that a fellow is allowed to get just what he wants: and yet I have it here—color, size and weight—all all right. How did you get it?" etc., questioning me minutely. "It makes me happy to be humored, you see. After a busy day—when I am tired, this is a fit conclusion." Asked me, "Did I tell you—did you know—that Ernest Rhys was to be married—is married? God help him!" I laughed, "Why so? Is he hurt?" W. then: "Well, the point is, to marry the right woman." Perhaps Herbert would be married next. "I hope not—I don't think he is of that kind till he is entirely satisfied." Then, "Here is poor Harry Fritzinger: his wife has just had a miscarriage—dire distress—and Harry too. What a pity it is!" Found Stedman's present on a pile of papers. Picked it up. W.: "It was good of him, wasn't it? I pray for him!" I paid McCollin their bill today—W. will pay me. $18.41. W. said, "It has been a remarkably good job throughout—I am entirely satisfied with it." We will leave negative with McCollin—for safety. W. had been reading Lippincott's sheets of his own article today—making some changes—of course too late for use. Gave him picture of Brooklyn water works and diagram of elevated railroad and sewer system of Brooklyn. W. exclaimed over the former, "Dear, dear Jeff! How he would have liked to see it—to have it. It is a beautiful piece of work anyway." And on the diagram: "It is home territory to me—every inch of it." Returned me the Harper's Bazar. Had "examined the Gérôme picture more at my leisure: what a grand expanse—hill, sky! It grew on me." As to Bush's impatience with New York city life: "I do not know—that would not be my view of it. If a fellow wants the fresh air, river, sea, sky—he has it there, too, for the asking. I am a good deal more inclined to say, we carry our fresh air with us, wherever we go. He who has it, has it anywhere—nothing can rob him of it. I found New York wonderfully open to every influence—opportunity—marvellously so, in its complex make-up. But I can see what Bush wants, too—can appreciate it. Still, it would hardly be a puzzle to solve by moving from one city to another."
Note from Baker today. W. much interested. "So the Colonel has gone! Health to him! I read the lecture through again today. It is a breath of fresh air—a tempest of it—from uplands. Great Bob he is! See how the pile has gone down?"—pointing to the floor near the table where three or four copies were piled one on the other. "I sent nearly all of them away today—to Symonds, to Dowden—to a lot of the fellows." Said he had learned of Rhys' marriage from the Pall Mall Gazette—"A marked copy has come: I guess he sent it."
I left Kennedy's copy with Billstein this afternoon. Will put into type at once. W. "glad" and thought "we ought to circulate quite a pack of 'em," because "for a thing of its kind, it tells the best truth truthfully and with authority."