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I went first of all from Brooklyn to Washington to nurse some of my friends.

Well, I went just like that: I went 'on my own hook.'

"From Long Island I went with my parents and settled at Brooklyn.

For my part, I said, I thought Mr.

Gladstone's policy; and my wish, my desire, my animus, would certainly be on the side of the just, wise

I made a call upon Captain Green, one of the vice-presidents of the Penn.

calmly: As at thy portals also, death, Entering thy sovereign, dim, illimitable grounds, To memories of my

"Publish my name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover." — Leaves of Grass .

To my reminiscences of the poet in his later years, and my description of his homes and haunts, let me

The deeply felt emotion with which "My Captain" is read invariably brings tears to the eyes of hearers

My health is reasonably good."

, My Captain," (encouraged by a gentle-kindly ejaculation of "Bravo, bravo!"

"As for poetry, my boy, listen to this."

Now, however, I put my faith in humanity.

He said simply but without petulance, and as if he rather pitied my intelligence: "Of course my poetry

And, after all, in "O Captain! my Captain!"

At the time of my acquaintance I could not lay my finger on any more definite example of this than his

A Visit to Walt Whitman A visit to Walt Whitman On a hot August afternoon, in 1889, my wife and I went

And Walt replied: "Well my friends who have known me longest have told me, many times, that I always

And then he added, after reflecting a moment: "I think my poems are like your West—crude, uncultured,

Walt sat in his arm-chair, and held wife with his right hand and me with his left, and said: "So long, my

My first meeting with Walt Whitman occurred when I was a boy and had occasion to ask for a certain residence

I did not know who or what he was, but on his answering my question I was so struck with the quality

My first visit to him occurred some years later, in the little house on Mickle Street which has been

matter of punctuation, and it was a source of annoyance to find the title of his latest book, "Good Bye My

I look forward to my visit abroad with great expectation. "My health?

My income is just sufficient to keep my head above water—and what more can a poet ask?

of my life.

Sometimes I think my Western experiences a force behind my life work. "Also the battlefield?

"My idea of a book? A book must have a living vertebra to hold it together. "My religion?

"My health?

My income is just sufficient to keep my head above water—and what more can a poet ask?

"My opinion of other American poets?

"My religion? I should refuse to be called a materialist.

I recovered what I call my second wind from nature.

myself in memory of Poe, which I have obeyed; but not the slightest impulse to make a speech, which, my

Even my own objections draw me to him at last; and those very points, with his sad fate, will make him

That figure of my lurid dream might stand for Edgar Poe, his spirit, his fortunes, and his poems—themselves

indeed fill me best and most, and will longest remain with me, of all the objective shows I see on this, my

Cincinnati and Chicago, and for thirty years, in that wonder, washed by hurried and glittering tides, my

Here in this very Denver, if it might be so, I should like to cast my lot, above all other spots, all

STARTING NEWSPAPERS (ANOTHER ACCOUNT) Reminiscences —( From the "Camden Courier." )—As I sat taking my

As I cross'd leisurely for an hour in the pleasant night-scene, my young friend's words brought up quite

How it made my heart double-beat to see my piece on the pretty white paper, in nice type.

My first real venture was the "Long Islander," in my own beautiful town of Huntington, in 1839.

I enjoy'd my journey and Louisiana life much.

My publisher has only sent me $80 as profits on my books for over a year.

But my friends everywhere are remembering me.

It would not be the truth to say that my only friends are in England.

My spirits are buoyant and my health fair: I am indeed content."

I am compelled to admit that my Western experiences are behind all of my life work.

My recollections of Walt Whitman date back to three or four years prior to the civil war.

Our chambers were the meeting places for several small circles of my young men friends.

My Captain!

But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead."

my captain!" above quoted. But the little KEEPSAKE is prized not the less on that account.

I tell you it's an impossibility to me; why, my whole income from my books during a recent half-year

its eight periods of growth, "hitches," he calls them, he completes them with the annex, "Good-bye my

Whispers of Heavenly Death" cannot be an irreverent person; the impassioned "prayer"— "That Thou, O God, my

For that, O God, be it my latest word, here on my knees, Old, poor, and paralyzed, I thank Thee....

When this is commented upon he laughingly says, "Oh, yes, my friends often tell me there is a book called

first met Whitman, beginning a friendship that will always form one of the pleasantest memories of my

The task in question, however, would naturally have fallen to my colleague and intimate friend, Frederic

before, I believe—he dropped in upon Guernsey at the Herald and introduced himself with the words: "My

Making known my errand, he greeted me cordially.

"In the moral, emotional, heroic, and human growths (the main of a race in my opinion), something of

with countless cartridges of money coming up, and of endless change going down—to none of these were my

or forbidden; and, of all men in Philadelphia, he it was whom I most desired to see and to thank for my

In a strong round hand he inscribed my name in the volume we had discussed, gave me some precious pictures

Conversations with Walt Whitman: My First Visit MY FIRST VISIT.

S ADAKICHI : "My father is a German, but my mother was a Japanese and I was born in Japan."

ONE of my first visits, after I had returned to Philadelphia from my first European trip, was to the

In my books, in my prose as well as my poetry are many knots to untie."

my captain' with which he generally concluded.

My impressions were written on the next day, and my memory has been vividly refreshed.

He walked with bared head to my desk and laid one in my hand, saying: Please tell Mr.

The voice caught my ear.

on my desk.

My metre is loose and free.

I went the other day by appointment to visit him at his home in Camden, and after my usual quantum of

A few commonplace words and I settled my mind to business.

I project the future—depend on the future for my audience.

I know perfectly well my path is another one. Most of the poets are impersonal; I am personal.

In my poems all revolves around, radiates from, and concentrates in myself.

It was there that I hastened to seek my old friend Walt Whitman on the first morning after my arrival

when the federal troops occupied the village of Falmouth on the Rappahannock river, the house owned by my

father, where my early life was passed, was used as a hospital, and it was in that house that Walt began

On the day after my call, Walt came to see and dine with me, and I had many hours' conversation with

It is as follows:— "O captain! my captain!

Leave you not the little spot, Where on the deck my captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. "O captain!

my captain!

"My captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse

But I with silent tread, Walk the spot my captain lies, Fallen cold and dead."

one day in Boston that Joaquin Miller, whose acquaintance I had gained through a poetical trifle of my

Whitman— I have tried all my life to write for the masses.

A few days later I called upon Whitman, my pockets stuffed with verses.

At its conclusion he smiled forgivingly and asked me to tell him about my grandfather on my mother's

Such a boy, to my mind, is positively nauseating.

I am trying to cheer him up and strengthen him with my magnetism."

Come to my house on Sunday evening, and I will have him there to meet you."

It would give me great pleasure to grant this request, out of my regard to Mr.

it, as he showed when I went to give him an account of my interview with the Secretary.

" 'I cock my hat as I please, indoors and out,' " I quoted.

Among my earliest indiscretions was Walt Whitman.

fame and no peril to my immortal soul, not to speak of my standing in society?

Whitman was the author of the lines, and my quoting them among my earliest indiscretions.

No one can read "My Captain" or "Pioneers" without seeing that there was capacity for music in the man

Bend down and touch lightly with my lips the white face in the coffin.

Knowing this I never attempted, during my talks with him, to question him or draw him out on any subject

And of course this applies also to my own account of him, as I saw him from day to day at a period very

manner he may have shown in earlier life, or on other occasions, no defects were ever observable in my

They seemed charged with a new beauty and a new meaning addressed to my individual soul; and long did

—After a refreshing night's sleep I awoke to the singing of some sweet little songsters at my window.

I did not see him again for about forty years, when one day he came to my house and asked me,— " 'Do

I believe, too, that I once existed before I lived in my present form, and that I shall again live as

an individual after I have changed my present form."

Rome—where I received a most cordial welcome from him and his good wife, who is my wife's cousin.

Rome, like myself, is an Annan man—and much did I enjoy that talk about my dear old home, three thousand

I asked him to write his name in my book, and I found it to be John Y.

river, the ceaseless movement, and the brilliant and varied panorama of "Manhattan from the Bay." ¹ On my

"Yes," he said, "my right arm is my best, but I have a good deal of power in my left."

knee with my bag of crackers.

is the result of my sitting.

And now I'll write my name on it, and I want you to take it to Wallace with my love."

Davis to my wife.

"But my 'Good-Bye' is probably my last bit of writing.

"Some of my friends feel—Dr.

My poems do not discuss special themes and are short. And, anyhow, that is my method.

He enquired what my programme was for the rest of my jaunt.

W. read it, and then said to me: "My best friends are women. They are my best friends.

I opened the door, and stood for a moment on the threshold before I could find my voice to speak.

What was my horror when, right in the midst of the exposure, the old bard waved his hand majestically

reason I like to drive a stage-coach on Broadway, I feel that the strength of the horses passes into my

veins, my muscles, and after that I can give strength to my poetry."

During my employment of seven years or more in Washington after the war (1865-72) I regularly saved a

great part of my wages; and, though the sum has now become about exhausted by my expenses of the last

three years, there are already beginning at present welcome dribbles hitherward from the sales of my

And that is the way I should prefer to glean my support.

In that way I cheerfully accept all the aid my friends find it convenient to proffer.

But first let me explain part of my head-line.

"But I, for my poems—What have I? I have all to make .

I wish to see my benefactor, and have felt much like striking my tasks and visiting New York to pay you

my respects.

My enemies discover fancy ones.

—of the poet that is to me more attractive than his writings, and my earliest recollections of poetry

I never saw my grey haired friend in such royal spirits.

short collar, open and fine beard, frosted poll, but not with age, till I could compare him only to my

In the year 1885 I lived with my father in a small house in Eagle Street, Bolton.

My father was a millwright in the employ of a large engineering firm in the town, and I—then thirty-one

My mother had died in January of that year, and certain experiences of mine in connection with that event

Soon after her death a few of my intimate friends, who often came singly to see me, began to make a special

the last five or six lines as from my living pulse."

Bucke to my left.

My friends do not realize my condition. They persist in imagining that I am like them."

: "Have you noticed my chair?

"My supper is my main meal now.

Speaking of my trip he said that he had felt uneasy in consequence of my late arrival.

Ruskin, however, has recorded himself as my friend."

a log and fired away without listening to any captain's orders.

I stopped working, and from that time my ruin commenced."

They offend my democracy, however.

"I enjoyed it well," was the reply, "and always keep my hand in.

My work is extremely personal—rightly considered so—and on the fly-leaf of each volume I have put my

photograph with my own hand."

I have printed my own works, and am now printing them in two volumes, for sale.

I am living here at my brother's house.

A paralysis of the left side, which chiefly affects my left leg and thigh, hinders me.

of my friends.

, probably my last.

It is called 'Good-bye, My Fancy,' and is now in the press.

with me and encouraged me in my theories.

Give my regards to all my friends, and particularly to the press fellows, for I never forget that I was

the comradeship—friendship is the good old word—the love of my fellow-men.

As to the form of my poetry I have rejected the rhymed and blank verse.

everything of the kind from my books."

I said, "Perhaps not, my dear, in the way you mean, and yet, maybe, it is the same thing."

He said: "It is my chief reliance." He talked of death, and said he did not fear it.

These were my first years with Emerson, and the questions provoked by my confession of this fact would

He lifted my common experience into biblical sanctity, and impelled my whole life to expanding issues

He thoroughly respected my autonomy, never once crossing my transactions with printer or binder.

Can I have won my battle after all?...

If I go there with a magazine under my arm, or a paper in my pocket, he is quite likely to ask me to

It is my own spirit, my own feeling—to accept and try and listen, and don't be too quick to reject, and

my fig tree.

I ask myself more than a little if my best friends have not been women. My friend Mrs.

My attempt at "Leaves of Grass"—my attempt at my own expression—is after all this: to thoroughly equip

Eyre .— I want to call attention to "My Captain," a poem which has in it the element of the dramatic

I twice questioned my informer before I could believe it."

"He flung it down at my door, as though the fellow meant some injury: an Italian would have handled it

I remember Thoreau saying once, when walking with him in my favourite favorite Brooklyn—"What is there

My friends laugh, and say I am getting Conservative—but I am tired of mock radicalism.'

"Well, honour honor is the subject of my story," —was the commencement of a favourite speech with him

For my part when I meet anyone of erudition I want to get away, it terrifies me.

Not like some of my friends, very thick at first, then falling off."

I should have my friends there, as I have here."

I am feeling pretty well so far (Yet I attribute my feeling pretty well now to my visit for the last

year and a half, to the Creek and farm, and being with my dear friends the S—'s).

At Montreal I came to the end of my purse and was obliged to remain at the St.

supervisorships, so that Seymour shall get half the patronage of the treasury, an institution which my

"Give my regards to all the boys in New York city, and don't forget it."

The door was opened in response to my ring by a gentle faced, wistful eyed, elderly woman.

I told him of passages in his writings which I admired and referred particularly to "My Captain," that

bells; But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck; my captain lies Fallen, cold and dead.

I had outstayed the moments to which I was pledged to limit my visit.

.— "Thou seest all things—thou wilt see my grave, Thou wilt renew thy beauty, morn by morn; I, earth

How can my nature longer mix with thine?

Coldly thy rosy shadows bathe me, cold Are all thy lights, and cold my wrinkled feet Upon thy glimmering

My first glimpse of Whitman was under such circumstances that I could not easily forget him.

As I sat listening to the arguments of Andrew and Sewall in my behalf, and of Woodbury against them,

"My father was a carpenter and came into that trade by inheritance.

I had begun to think of making my fortune as a builder.

But my subsequent acquaintance with him taught me not to be too hasty in making up my mind about people

I keep up my spirits, but my strength won't stand any extra demands.

Captain, Oh, My Captain."

table, a knock at the door of our room—which served both as dining and sitting room—was answered by my

O'Connor offered to go out on the search with him; but before they started my husband asked me, aside

Walt had left his "carpet bag" with my husband, on his way down, wishing to be burdened with as little

When I expressed my doubts about his coming to us on his return from camp,— my husband's answer was,

My own first impression after reading the quarto edition of Leaves of Grass, recommended by Emerson to

Do you not see, O my brothers and sisters?

During my attendance upon Mr.

'I have had my hour'; I have had my hour ; only let me rest in peace until its close."

In these days and nights it is different; my mutton-broth, my little brandy, to be 'turned' promptly

My only difficulty with Mrs. Davis and Warren was in getting them to let me do my full share.