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He motioned me to a seat—questioned me about my day's work, etc.

W. said: "I am confident of it: but I always plant myself on my own plans in the end."

But my book has aroused his suspicions.

I said something in my note to Bucke to-daytoday about the possibility of W.'

Lanier was once my friend—once thought himself on my side: he shied off later—could n'tcouldn't stand

Did not till later mention my own message. He answered: "Yes—and quite a long letter, too.

"Doctor returned me the slip, with reference to my future use of it—it is there in the note."

W. asked: "Did they understand my note?"

"I don't know whether too much or not, but I like to know my men—who they are, what they do.

Bucke called my attention to it at the time.

work and having my jaunts together.

I will call on you on my way back to New York.

So my dear old friend I have protected your interests to the best of my judgment and if you want me to

I would also like you to answer my letters.

All right my dear J.

"With each month that passes I feel more and more uncertain on my pins.""

A little of it here and there I might say no to, but I guess my no wouldn't be very loud."

My friends here and there, both sides, do not realize how badly broken up I am. Another thing.

"After my dear, dear mother, I guess Lincoln gets almost nearer me than anybody else."

I want Horace to come down with his hatchet or come down and use my hatchet and open the box."

I said my question was: Do I want to go back to it? W. approving.

My inquiry then was: "Then you don't like Brown?" "No.

"No," he said, "but I have my eye out sharply for it: it seems as if it must be there in the mix—yet

W. said: "My father had been an acceptor of Paine: Paine had been much vilified."

My dear Mr.

"It is my invariable test of a doctor, his not too-great certainty.

Ed says W. suggested to him: "I should rather eat my crust on my own dung hill than a good meal on another's

I wrote in one of my letters to Doctor that Stedman was mad.

To Brahms I owe my redemption from the ultra-Wagnerian school.

The fact is I renewed my musical youth by his acquaintance.

"Here are the proofs—but, Horace, do not rely upon my readings.

In fact, all my experiences South—all my experiences in the hospitals, among the soldiers in the crowds

Then read.Montenotte, Cork,Sept. 3, 1872.My dear Mr.

My address is as before, 50, Wellington Road, Dublin.

He took my hand—pressed it fervently. "I am in luck. Are you?

Whitman:I am very anxious not to leave this country without paying my respects to you, and bearing to

My judgment would, on the whole, the judgment I sent to The Herald, be considered unfavorable."

It more than meets my expectations: its serenity, its seriosity—which stops finely short of ministerial

You go as my representative." "All right. And what shall I say of the picture when I get there?"

My dear Mr. Whitman:Allow me to introduce to you Mr.

My eye caught on the woodpile a bunch of manuscript. I picked it up. "What is this?

I stopped: that was always the case—always my habit."

He is seven years my senior, I believe: Herbert says, shows age, is round-shouldered, stoops."

After a pause: "My mental work was always taken easy: more-over, I have never forgotten what I owe my

Was greatly interested anyhow in my Germantown trip—in my description of greens—the rain-freshened landscape.I

W. listened intently to my rehearsal of Clifford's opinions and reasons, and for the rest of the time

of my stay seemed much more troubled and silent than before.

s consent to write to Stedman for my two letters, submit them to W., and if he approved, consent that

Nowadays my memory for names seems strangely deserting me—strangely."

I wasted many of my own opportunities."

He would not permit my defense of Oldach.

I put my hand over my heart. "From in here." He wanted to know: "Have you a safe guide in there?"

I explained: "I don't mean my future beyond this life but my future here." W.'s face lighted up.

W. poked his thumb up before my eyes.

"These are my visiting cards: I put them in my pocket when I go out."

My dear Walt Whitman:In London last week I met many mutual friends who were asking after you and wondering

Of course this suits me, born Democrat as I am, but I trust it will not at all disturb the future of my

My address is the Langhorne Hotel. Drop me a line.Yours faithfully,Joaquin Miller.

"My today's mail has been chiefly an autograph mail.

Not a day but the autograph hunter is on my trail—chases me, dogs me!

I settle myself in my chair, get the glasses on my nose, and lo! every note is for an autograph.

Amer—about April 10, I shall return here again and my address will be—— I am writing this at my desk—as

My mind advises me that I must suspend operations for to-nighttonight.

W. in bathroom on my arrival.

Spoke of Scribner's I had in my hand and with which he said he was finished.

Our talk of Alcott had arisen out of my remark that Camden had got its fame through W. W.

Then my objection as above.

And after my reply—"He was a priest then?" I asked him if he had not read George Eliot's "Romola."

"My position had been simple: sitting here day after day in this litter"—looking around—"my one idea

My dear Mr.

As to Walt Whitman, I am glad that my little note pleased the good and grand old man.

I often feel that the succession of events and of work is a thing hardly in my own hands.

It has been about me now for fifty years: I am very close to it: it is one of my bibles."

My Arnold piece did not appear in Tuesday's Herald.

I am myself of late years more inclined to sit still exploiting and expounding my views than was the

Walt Whitman, Esq.Dear Sir—I have tried in vain to obtain a good portrait of my father for you and am

traps—stored in garret or cellar of my new house where all things are at sixes and sevens.The one as

I am always uneasy about the inquirers when they come buzzing about: they get on my skin and irritate

He started up instantly on my quiet entrance. "Oh!"

You have touched a chord that always induces my sympathy."

I looked at my watch. He asked: "Haven't you time?"

over the manuscript to my colleague.

I wanted to send Minden my translation of Starting from Paumanok, with my preface to the work and Freiligrath's

"He shan't squeeze my girl.'"

Asks from my sister a letter of introduction to the Strykers.

I quoted a review of Florian's Montaigne: " 'Myselfe am the groundworke of my booke': such were the Whitmanesque

"I always object," he explained, "to putting my name in a book about myself.

As to leaving this place just now—it is impossible—out of the question: my legs would not take me if

If I went off somewhere into more complaisant surroundings—had servants at my beck, the best of food,

I might be tempted some——I could not be tempted enough to go—my decision would be finally reverse."

"I like to get all my relations with people personal, human.

Whitman.Some days ago came my parcel—many thanks—Mr. Grosairt's books included. That for Mr.

My experience is a peculiar one: something like this"—working his hand circularly—"it is as if things

Had not suffered any from the fall in temperature.We talked of my work—of my bookkeeping: how at times

He had been "put in charge of the Attorney General's letters: cases were put into my hands—small cases

to them all so passed some of them over to me to examine, report upon, sum up: which I did mainly by my

I had a copy of Harper's Bazar in my pocket.

don't say my say for me in the most conclusive way.

I am doing my job in my way: it don't suit them: they growl, curse, ridicule: but what is left for Walt

I have loved you for years with my whole heart and soul.

And yet I am a writer and make a living by my pen.

I am proud of my feeling for you.

W. said: "Maurice says the new leaves and flowers will be my best medicine when spring comes.

It aroused my ire: has a scurrilous little paragraph on the Colonel: a mean, dirty little paragraph:

: "It is very companionlike of her to say that: I thank her deeply: such goodwill serves to appease my

I folded it and put it away in my pocket. W. asked: "Well: have you any thoughts about it?"

Was intercepted by the circus parade on Federal Street on my way down.

W. had heard the bands, and asked me about it on my coming. He sat in his room, not doing anything.

We talked of my interview with McKay yesterday afternoon.

was mad that people would not see what he thought he saw in it and said: 'Give it to me—give it in my

a poem to be read at the debuting, adventing, of a big affair—a big exposition; is now included in my

adding after my reply: "I see I am all right: I often use the word and yet lose the sense of it.

It is queer, too, Childs being so unmistakably my friend.

I imagine that it is an act of religion in McKean not to patronize a man of my make.

Some of my enemies are malignants—for instance, Littlebill Winter, as O'Connor calls him, and Stoddard

He said: "I believe in the higher patriotism—not, my country whether or no, God bless it and damn the

As to "Why should my dog inhabit heaven if I?" W. said: "Why not?

I took it out of my pocket. "Read that passage to me again." I did so.

Adams, my last news of your health, and enclosing also a copy of my last circular (summer of 1876) regarding

My wife received lately a letter from Mrs.

I can but repeat my delight in this prospect, were it to be realized, and my wife's hope and my own that

Leaves of Grass," said W. tonight, "were neither moral nor literary, but were given with an eye to my

My old fencing-master, Boulet, (no better ever lived; he taught once at West Point,) taught me always

to cover my breast with hilt and point, even in the lunge, and I think of his lessons when engaged in

My aim has been to shut Chadwick up for good, for I don't want to be bothered on a side issue by this

Channing at Providence, red-hot for you, and proposing to reprint my Good Gray Poet at his expense!!

Left word with my father for me to say to W. his feet were too bad for him to try to get to Mickle street

Consults with my father concerning these.

My life from my bed to my chair, from my chair to my bed again, is tedious, but endurable."

With my help W. closed the blinds, shoved the chairs about into position and lighted the gas.

dedicate" my book.

"I just started my fire—I am always anxious to know."

I wrote to Bucke this morning on hospital matters, and explained to W. the substance of my note.

As to Harrison's historic position W. said: "Take due note of my prophecy: it will come true."

W. asked for details about my visit to Shillaber with Morse.

On my description W. very readily perceived the differences. At W.'

My father had reinforced W. in his Goethean views. I had repeated these views from my notes.

Please don't mention my name in connection with what I write about Harlan.

Van Rensallaer.W. must have seen the big smile on my face. He looked extra pleased himself.

I turned the letter over and over in my hands.

He held my hand for an extra clasp. "Don't let our fight prejudice you against me," he said.

says: "There is some peculiar atmospherical influence which reacts strangfely upon the chemistry of my

impossible—really felt that it was out of the question—but after he had gone I turned the matter over in my

W. said of it: "My mind is a slow one—it never hustles: I don't seem to know yet what I think of the

He got up from his chair in rather painful fashion, took my arm, and went with me into the back room.

I for my part don't want to be either haughty or humble.

—Why should I trouble you with my pains? You have pains of your own." He paused for a minute.

"Neither did I for the most of my life: I hardly knew I had a stomach or a head for all the trouble I

I am told that Stoddard is pretty sour on me—hates even to have my name mentioned in his presence, never

"I am always sure that in some way my friends hear all that I say about them: all the love I say about

My dear friend and fellow toiler good bye.Yours faithfully,Joaquin Miller. Saturday, April 21, 1888.

"I am a prisoner," he said, smilingly, "but you are not my jailer."

Then after a pause: "Indeed, far from that: you are in fact my deliverer."

At present my brain is just mud—I have a heap of letters unanswered.

My own health is pretty good.

It has reduced my weight about ten per cent. My belly has gone away as if I had been confined.

You can ask—make inquiries in my name.

The old fellow is not Dutch but Italian—has been there from my boyhood.

Ask her in my name—though I don't know if she ever knew me by name.

Keeps well—sat much as I found him all the time of my stay.

I should without hesitation adopt those words as my own. 'A gassy fizzle!' Yes, surely!

Yet, such are the drains of the heat on my small treasure of strength, that the vim I had (Lord knows

I have had the book a couple of years (Gabriel sent it to me himself: he is my personal friend) but have

in the matter you can't hit a landlord too often, Irish or American, and if you hit and don't hear my

Put the photo for the frontispiece in my hands: "I leave it all to you fellows to do right with: if you

of my own make."

Asked about the weather: urged me to throw my coat off: altogether most cordial.

He added: "My first doubts are my last. I think the little woman (was it Lucy Larcom?)

Then I would re-examine my premises. Yet each attempt was fruitless."

Changed his cover design at McKay's and my suggestion.

I keep it among my records. Monday, November 26, 1888

To Tucker: "He has thumped me some for my emperor piece but is still my friend as I am still his friend

To O'Connor: "He, too, fell afoul of me for my emperor piece.

W. said to a visitor in my hearing: "The American people wash too much."

Whitman,I thank you heartily for my share in your Custer poem, which I have just read.

but I don't believe I deserved my friends."

Called my attention to several matters, and as I sat down and read he pored over the papers—patiently

him what I had heard, but that as he was flitting all along the road I should be compelled to take my

If it has come into use, it has come lately—for in my time there was no exaggerated emphasis.

Adding after my assent: "That is my conviction too. Here was Leaves of Grass in gestation.

"It is better," he said to my assurance, "better beyond a doubt.

W. replied: "Considering the condition of the rest of my body the immunity enjoyed by my topknot is marvellous—even

W. said: "It is one of the admonitions of my Doctor not to see people—not to talk: but then I am a disobedient

W. gave me what he called "another tidbit" for my "archeeves."

"My body is a splendid barometer." Gave him today's Herald containing the Sheridan piece.

I never wrote one, never even got it laid out, but never forgot my intention.

of my book?

I always decided against it—always came round to one conclusion—always planted my heel on the temptation

"I see what it all means—it is in accord with my own experience with me: a man of heart often suffers

He watched me closely as I worked: I was on my knees on the floor: the room was in a sort of half light

"It was my grandfather," he remarked, "who best knew Hicks: they hobnobbed together in their young days

: but my father had met him—known him—also, as he did Thomas Paine: I myself saw Hicks: what is more,

Here he paused an instant, then he said earnestly: "Had I all my faculties now, my literary power, the

Am laid up just now with a kick from my horse—luckily nothing very bad—he struck me (accidentally in

My dear Whitman,I have your kind favor of the 11th with the enclosed poem—or series of poems, rather.

It did my eyes good to look away from him towards Tom—Tom, who is a normal man, gruff, honest, direct

"My opinion is that I have no opinion!

My dear Sir,Yours of 27 January, and Leaves of Grass, received.

and therefore my allusion to it.

I had told Dowden of my not having received any reply to my cards or letters and my apprehension that

That's all there is to my hoarding up these records—as you call it.

"I was in Washington at the time—the early years of my stay there—was feeling pretty well—the paralysis

To my question he said: "Yes, Wendell Phillips thought very well of it.

As I was going he waved his hand—"My best wishes attend you, boy!" Did not stay long.

My heart foreboding much, I rang the bell, Mrs.

my boy I have gone far under!

Then: "I have done nothing to-daytoday: for the first time my appetite has positively, wholly, given

I reached down, kissed him: he kissed me, saying thickly: "Bless you, my boy! bless you!"

It is my nephew—the second son of my sister.

My impression of W's appearance at this date is a favorable one: though it is clear enough that his recent

Often he points me about the rooms: "Poor as these are, they are a comfort to me—my own—giving me freedom

My only uncompromising friend in the family is probably Watson—he swears to me—not everything in me,

When I was in Denver I spent my longest hours in contemplation of the mountain ranges."

I took off my hat to the compliment.

W. took it from my hands and held it off from himself, regarding it with immediate approval and fondness

Millet is my painter: he belongs to me: I have written Walt Whitman all over him. How about that?

My word was not law, of course: they could have done anything they chose about it: but they asked my

Take my own method—if you call it that.

This does not mean that I am not careful: it only means that I try not to overdo my cake."

Symonds' piece reminded me, reminds me, of Captain Cuttle—the queer Captain Cuttle."

"The Captain would say in his own inimitable style: 'If the ship has gone down then she has gone down—if

My hope is, as the boys say, that it 'gets its roots in': you have heard that expression, eh?

My friends could never understand me, that I would start out so evidently without design for nowhere

"All my life here," he said, "is made up of pathetically little things: yet I don't know but all life

W. saw a copy of Unity in my hand. "What have you got there?"

I spoke of the absence of sun from this room—my regret that it was so.

He feels so well just now, he accepts my confidence.

And he added, "my sister-in-law was here today.

W. then: "Well—Baptist: it is the same thing for my purposes.

"I mean counted my pulse, questioned me—went through all the technicalities: but—!"

When I said: "Should you ever need a Secretary, let me serve," he fervently responded: "Bless you, my

Captain: Could you give me a little further information about my brother Capt. George W.

—Was my brother really well & hearty—was Lieut. Sam'l Pooley, 51st N.Y. there, & how was he?

—Do you know whether my brother got letters & boxes we sent him?

Bucke today referred to my letters in writing to W. This was a mistake.

But my first impression was a bad one and I have not moved from it.

"My half is in seeing you tickled," he replied.

My friends were fewer than my enemies but they blew a trumpet loud enough for everybody to hear."

That fits my intentions to a t—describes my ideal absolutely.