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If I can make that much gain I may be able to do my work.

Clifford wrote today: "My love to dear Walt Whitman.

He raised his head from the pillow: "My love to dear John Clifford!

I often find myself misplacing names, things—find that I must go back and rectify my errors—retrace my

steps—review my work."

streets, among people again—the blare, everything—I was totally blinded, almost—everything obfuscated—my

head swam, my hearing dulled—all my senses seemed to desert me.

I could not stand it—my brain whirled—was in a ferment.

And it was a revelation to me of two things: my sight is going—going markedly—and I am weak—very weak—my

W. afterwards, "I wore my new hat today. It made a great dash."

My morning's round took me to W.'s.

Could then only leave my order. Wrote Creelman.

—seeing an open paper in my hands.

Imparted substance of my correspondence with Creelman.

, and so on—that is the nature of my desires.

But he admitted: "I am more and more sensitive to the cold: my inanimate limbs."

W., after his laugh over my repetition of this, added: "I am not surprised: no doubt I should disfavor

If you can, go in to see him—give him my reiterated request for proofs—tell him I must on no account

No man has suffered worse than I have from editors who insist they can read my proofs better than I can

I should have done it long ago—I feel some embarrassment in my neglect—for it is a neglect."

Greeted me by name and took my hand rather heartily.

Then they say I defer too much to English opinion in my favor.

That's all bosh—I defer to nobody—I do my work.

(And I would like my friends, indeed, when writing for publication about my poetry, to present its gay-heartedness

It seems to be a fine average specimen of his current lectures.And now my friend, I must close my letter

But I shall try my best to let you have it for tomorrow." Title-page he now wholly approved.

I have had a dreadful bad day all through—my constipation and my cold have been the two beans in the

"I have nothing final on it: my head got so bad I put aside, resigned, everything."

And he answered as he fervently kept my hand—"I shall not, my boy—no—no—not for a minute"—and then "Goodbye

Davis on my way out. Ed had gone for his music lesson.

Her mother was my mother's cousin. Never met her before."

I have never forsworn my allegiance to the printers—never.

At any rate," looking directly at me, "take my authorization with you: I authorize you to promise just

Called my attention to the fact that the Long Islander reprinted my Lippincott's piece in full, giving

before I get the piece in my book."

s on my way home from West Philadelphia. Found him industriously reading proofs of book.

And, "I feel as if this was my last pull of shad!"

He is opposed to my making any plans for the birthday. "Who knows? I may not be above ground then!"

Had read the papers—written "some notes"—that was the "beginning and end of my day."

My dear Mr. Traubel:I have yours of the 15th.

He stirred on my entrance—opened his eyes, "Oh, Horace—it is Horace!"

"This has been one of my damnedest days," he said. "One of the very damnedest.

It has taken all my courage, energy, simply to keep afloat—simply to hold my head above water."

But I don't know—I have my doubts." Yesterday had been downstairs in the front room for an hour.

Adding after my nod of assent, "Well, if there's anyone in the world he ought to know by this time—would

Did you go to hear my good friend Herne read while he was in Philadelphia.

He is my convert to the Single Tax. By the way does W. W. indicate interest in it still?

Give him my love.

The last one—the closing one—just the last year—in this room—since my sickness.

W. frequently broke in on my descriptions to say: "Well, that is beautiful to hear!"

The Century under Gilder has always accepted my pieces and paid for them.

Some of my friends have quarrelled with the editors but they have never done it with my consent.

I am well satisfied with my success with titles—with Leaves of Grass, for instance, though some of my

You have saved my books: I could not do these books without assistance.

He did not indicate his knowledge of my presence.

Whitman and my next door neighbor—and my neighbor is now dead."

'My idea is...'""That's right—you've got it.

I had taken Bucke's note of the 14th out of my pocket.

Yes, got my rest on the bed—wrote my sister at Burlington. I am very lame.

And then as to Bucke's warnings about taking cold, "I have thought myself that was my worst danger: I

He laughed and said, "I am unchanged about him: my impression lasts."

And to my expression, "Each spring all think must be the last, but the next surpasses it," he assented

talked of Sarrazin pleasantly for some time, W. urging me to write.Later, Harned's children, who were at my

["My wings may be free but the same can't be said of my backside!"]

My friends call me Bram. I live at 43 Harcourt St., Dublin.

But go on: may the good Lord have mercy on my soul!"]

I say it to my own shame but not to my regret for it has taught me a lesson to last my life out—without

for a copy of my new edition has just been received.

I realize that I am at last on the verge of dissolution: my vim has departed, my strength is gone, life

He used to handle my skepticism about Poe without gloves: Edgar Poe: he would not have my qualifications

life and may be used as in some byways an explanation of my addiction to the trades and my apprenticeship

What he says of Scott has my entire approval: Scott is my man, too: I go to him sometimes with a real

They have made my summer glorious. My love of that man is something strong as fate.

—that my mind is bound to last me out whatever becomes of my body." Spoke of the Harneds.

My father spoke of the Twenty Years' drawings in the Magazine of Art as being "so Scotch."

Gilder has always been my friend—very good friend—indeed, I may say my 'dear' friend, speaking for myself

Gilder as well as Watson himself, I'd had one of the times of my life.

appreciation, my love for them, has no ifs and buts either." [1905.

Give him my love, tell him you found me here, tell him the beautiful note nestled to its place in my

If I will send you copy of my lecture on Shakespeare will you read it to Whitman?

I have put some in my cellar."

W. asked, "My proofs? Not come yet?" I was to have them Monday.

And now, Horace, if you write to the Colonel, don't forget my love.

would make my blood as thin as possible, and so lessen the arterial strain.

Well, my time has come—that is all. You see, I am somewhat of a fatalist!"

I take it my spirit sense of your condition is not likely to fail after all.

For all, accept my friendliest good wishes."Direct, W. W. Solicitor's office.

I get published, in spite of my enemies." "Your enemies never really hurt you?"

Of course, I don't know how I look—yet as I know myself, if I know myself, my head don't set so on my

Tis midnight now; my lonely gateI open to no stranger's knock."Who art thou? Speak!"

My names are Song, Love, Art.My poet, now unbar the door.""

Art's dead, Song cannot touch my heart,My once Love's name I chant no more.""

Too late—my youth you still withhold.""

I confessed my concern.

He said: "I've had the same concern myself: my body is nowadays so easily shoved off its balance: but

It cuts to the marrow—at least to my marrow: is a sort of confession of faith on my part.

without lowering my colors.

I am always more or less on tenter hooks about my health these times."

I fully see the advantages of it and have mentioned it in my Preface.

But I think I can rely on my father's helping me to the extent needed.

I was born in this town and know every field and nearly every tree since my childhood.

He and my mother are greatly delighted with the two grandchildren we have brought them home.

Rolleston," said W., "has proved to be one of my staunchest friends.

I come," she cried, in toneLike sweetest siren song,"Though I have tarried long,I come, my own, my own

Thou art too late; in soothNaught earthly makes me glad;Where wert thou in my mad,My eager, fiery youth

Nay, grieve not thine," she said,"For I have loved full oft,And at my lovers scoffed,Alive to woo them

s "sonorous verse," W. thereupon: "That sounds good: I hope the verse is sonorous: I have my many many

"Take these—mere reminders—with my remembrance, my affection."

And to my questions: "I should not object to appearing in Scribner's if they paid me for it.

I have been so often cuffed—met not only incivility but downright and cowardly insult—I must pick my

Any one of you fellows knows more about my book than I do myself.

most of them—and then go off and picture me as standing out in the middle of the room and spouting my

That word, they said, was out of place, not my word, inconsistent with my philosophy.

My enemies would even dispute my knowledge of the English." W. talked of "Shakespeare worship."

No magnificent cathedral could quite so well have rounded up my simple picture.

has been giving me the very devil in Liberty for calling the Emperor William a 'faithful shepherd' in my

As he said: "It is all from my friends.

There was nothing in this little poem to contradict my earlier philosophy.

leave W. reverted to the Emperor William affair: "Do you think I had better write a little note to my

"That is true—true—if I wrote I would do no more than make it clear that my reference was to the Emperor

I went down to the Cemetery—Harleigh: I want you to go there, too—see my lot.

And curiously, he is the first man of the kind, in such a position, whose views coincide with my own.

No—no—I do not think he is anything but what he appears—my impression was a good one, favorable: the

Not only asked to buy my whole stock of books—but the copyright as well.

I am willing to sell books and books—but my freedom?"

Luckily the stroke did not affect, such as it is, my power of speech, or my brain: up to the time of

"My bete noir," he said, "is indigestion."

"Thanks to my dear father and mother, I have been wonderfully fortunate in my constitution—my body."

My honest thanks to you, Hugo for your letter posting me up not only about yourself but about my dear

That 'sThat's often my little way of celebrating the death of my friends.Dear Hugo, you speak of your

31 1889Dear Sir:I think I subscribed $5 to the publication of the "Camden Compliment," and I enclose my

W. thought: "From my point of view, aside entirely from what is said on it, the book is a success from

I do not get over my astonishment, however, that this is for us—that I have lived to see it."

Said he had "another red-ink postal from the Epoch person, directing my attention to The Epoch of Nov

My own poem looks well: there is a noble breadth given it there—in the mere printerial aspect of it."

W. had just finished his dinner, and talked well during the 20 minutes of my stay.

"Yes," he said to my inquiries, "I woke well this morning—pass along reasonably well.

Yes, the summer has been a severe one—but the profuse sweatingness, so to call it, has been in my case

For instance, where he says—the world is my country, to do good is my religion.

Called my attention to brief editorial in the Boston Herald.

It is not new, particularly to you, to my friends. But it is one of my choice notes.

," and on my explanation: "Yes, that is good."

No, I do not see that my presence is necessary, indispensable.

I do not know but that it could be best to have it understood all is to go in my pocket."

"They will give you notions of how I pass my life." Tuesday, September 16, 1890

"I am all of a jumble today—my stomach, my head."

And laughingly told him my discussion with Burroughs, Burroughs contending that W.'

I informed him, "My idea now is, to start my piece with the autobiographic page and close it with your

description of this room—filling in my own matter for the rest."

Yet I shall do so, for from outward evidence he is worse than he has been.He still urges me about my

Wrote Creelman, specifying my notions of the flower business and W.'

Warning again against appeals, speaking of my fund and of W.'

Defined my message to Creelman.

Adding, "Give her my love: tell her to take the best care of herself."

I often rub my eyes to see if much or most of this kindness is not a dream."

He kept my cold hand—said: "Its cold is no offense—refreshing, rather."

Yet on the other hand I am always determined—have been, whether when I wrote or spoke, to present my

own case, be myself, let my own position be understood.

No—Williams will not print—at least with my consent: I should, as I see it now, be positively opposed

I explained my idea—"Their democracy is born of something other than democracy—ours from democracy itself

What had been my feeling?

He probably got hold of my piece—knew I had been present at the concert: my habits, enjoyment: inserted

My book is my best letter, my response, my truest explanation of all.

In it I have put my body and spirit.

I wrote to Stedman for W. to-daytoday: sent the message out of my sheet of notes.

Those fellows have one virtue—they always use good paper: and on that I manage to do a good deal of my

"I've been taken and taken beyond count—taken from every side—even from my blind side"—laughing—"taken

I must be satisfied now if I have succeeded in hinting at matters which it was a part of my original

"I had my temptations, but they were not strong enough to tempt.

"I suppose I did: I wrote things down: I saw them better in my handwriting than in my mind's eye—could

How many's the argument I had on this very point with my friend Mrs.

I could never do that—my whole make-up is opposed.

seventy-first year—to review my habits.

W. then added with a laugh: "That is a part of my quarrel with Horace here about Emerson.

Davis—"My friend"—he called her—and to Ed also, in a similar phrase.

I must keep on my course, whatever turns up."

My dear Traubel:Your kind & welcome letter rec'd.

I am excessively busy—hence my scratches and scrawlses—and also my briefness.Heartily yoursBaker."

pointing to some papers that protruded from my pocket.

way, but because it is my way."

I shall have Specimen Days in my class during spring time.

chair here, folding my hands on my lap, and having you do my work!

My friend and yours, R.

"O for the light of another sun,With my Bazra sword in my hand!"

He said: "You have opened my eyes."

I showed him a card I had from Josephine Lazarus, who had come into my nurse fund.

Later I found my watch wrong.

oh my yes!

—and on my assent: "Oh!

In my boyhood I had seen Davenport twice as Bill Sykes—then as Brutus.

My reading is wholly without plan: the first thing at hand, that is the thing I take up."

I hope you will continue writing me such notes as these, "My food nourishes me better."

My love to W.W.J. B.W. asked: "Is the postmark West Park?

W. says: "Maybe I've put my foot in it: maybe I'd better kept my mouth shut."

I had not repeated this to W., who today said to me: "Carpe diem is my motto."

Some of my best friends—my own people—accuse me (have always accused me) of procrastination—the most

That might apply wonderfully well to my case." He was silent.

And yet he added: "My physical disabilities don't affect my power to think: no: not at all: but they

increase my inertia: they paralyze my fingers, for instance, so I don't want to write: but my brain keeps

My dear Horace:Yours of 18th just to hand.

written you long before, as well as after, but have been in a wretched condition with the misery in my

I don't improve in my back and legs as rapidly as I ought and am nearly as lame and heavy as you are,

Often as I have read it, I can't keep the tears out of my eyes."

White, even at my expense. Reason, Shakespearean hostility to the subject. This is a pretty note!

I wrote my mother voluminously from the War: ah! those letters! my dear, dear mother!

"I seem to have improved this afternoon and evening: my mind is clearer than any day yet: less sore—with

If I keep on fooling with one will and another I won't know which is my last.

"In a general way Dana was favorable to my work—not in any thorough-going fashion.

I slipped out, avoided the beaten paths, tried a way of my own—that was my experiment.

My impressions regarding this literature I have published in various works.

Left him my written notes of the talk with Stedman on 27th.

office alone with my books and pen.

Told him however of my possible sale of "Two Rivulets."

Found my copy in the next room, but it contained no portrait.

Hurry him up—tell him I want my grog." I went downstairs.

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."

Had written nothing—"not even letters to Bucke, Burroughs and Kennedy—to whom I owe my biggest debts.

Some one in that discussion over the river presented my 'standpoint'—but suppose I have no conscious

That may be my fault.

McKean has no place—no room—no call for me or my kind." "Did he ever express himself to you?"

have no interest in him—when I look about in my world he is not in sight."

"My first feeling about Howells' piece," he said, "is wholly indifference."

"That depends: I am not at all settled in my own notions on the subject as yet."

If I say it's not in my line then it's not in my line: that's the end of it: that settles it: do you

"Perhaps I would: perhaps I wouldn't: not my line: that's my say: let's stop right there."

I think you will like it as well as my first letter.

Opened my bundle and showed him what I had.

I shook my head. Then he asked: "Does it betray eccentricity?"

My ways are very methodical: I have been much criticised for that: but my ways are mine and are necessary

It is from my sister—I have been worried about her.

Look at my own great strength.

"I went silently, so as not to disturb Mary, but I realized my exhaustion."

—and on my shaking my head: "Well—I intended to: it escaped me."

own way—not to be unnecessarily interfered with even here, even in my incompetencies."

faith—in the end my faith prevails.

"Yes—just that: though I don't get into a boil over it I keep up a devil of a thinking in my corner—my

Told him of my message to Reeder. "I am glad. I want him to do it.

anticipate me—and so I feel a singular, long-prepared reliance upon you—as if in fact you had become my

—though these formal, conventional weapons, even an inkstand, do not lend themselves to my habits, taste

That was always my impression: buoyant, light, loving."

As to the farewell reception to Clifford at Germantown this evening: "Give him my love, respect, admiration