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Some of them say my face there has a rogue in it. O'Connor called it my sea-captain face.

W. commented in this way: "I'm honest when I say, damn My Captain and all the My Captains in my book!

, my Captain!

FIRST DRAFT MANUSCRIPT OF ONE VERSE OF WHITMAN'S "MY CAPTAIN" My captain does not answer, his lips are

My captain does not answer, his lips are closed and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no

My Captain! I want to learn it to speak in school."

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

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

my boy!

way back to my central thought again—my spinal conviction: I resent my resentment—am ashamed of my questions

Said as to my inquiries: "I am bad again, very bad—somehow start into a new siege: it is my head, my

My dear Mr.

That is my habit—they call it my procrastination—it has always been my habit.

old days, my youth, my forty years ago, any more!"

But my memory! my memory!"

"My head and my heels tell me so."

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

so—in my friends than in my enemies."

W. writing a note to Harper Brothers who have asked permission to print My Captain in their Fifth Reader

Said to me: "It's My Captain again: always My Captain: the school readers have got along as far as that

Give me a day or two more: I will do my best to be good.

very sick—and sore: tell them I feel as if the whole ground had been swept from under my feet—as if I

of a socialist than I thought I was: maybe not technically, politically, so, but intrinsically, in my

When I go to my tailor I lay down a law to him: that among the prime requisites of a suit of clothes

Yet said in reply to my question: "I can say I am here—little else, nothing else."

Gets great pleasure out of my recital of average experiences—particularly street incidents: likes me

He asked me about my reading.

I can't see that it leads to anything worth while: but I 'mI'm not responsible for it: I wash my hands

I drifted into fuller details of my talk with Brinton.

friend over there in the Truebner establishment" [he pronounced it Trubner with diphthong, and bore with my

My enthusiastic description of the day aroused him so that he flung the window sash all the way up.

I used to count him one of my best friends on the river."

"You know them all," he said, when I shook my head over some names he mentioned.

I described to W. my hunt most of my spare time to-daytoday for the steel plate.

He pushed the paper into my hand.

I must be on my guard: I must take care not to grow helpless before my time."

He placed his hand on mine and looked into my face affectionately.

I have given my oath to the Union.'

He picked up my hand and pressed it.

"You are my one vital means of connection with the world—the one live wire left.

I shook my head. "No?" "No.

I said: "Perhaps my father can do it: I'll ask him."

I want to be generous: I'll share my possessions with you."

Held a letter gleefully up before my face. "Here is the Whittier," he said: "Take it—be satisfied."

But I, for my part—we—must not play the game with that end in view.

Osler respected my objection." Box of flowers from Charlotte Fiske Bates.

"I do not seem to get the thing very clearly in my own mind: it eludes me."

He said of it: "I have no doubt you are right: I will give the poems my attention.

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.

Called my attention to an old letter in the Philadelphia Press describing a visit to Emerson with Louisa

You will see by it how that point staggers my friends as well as my enemies.

Dear Walt Whitman:Pray forgive my long silence. I have been deep in troubles of my own.

I know the purity and righteousness of your meaning, but that does not alter my regret.I think your reputation

When I tried to take those pieces out of the scheme the whole scheme came down about my ears.

would print me correctly—use the right marks—not misrepresent: I hate commas in wrong places: I want my

i's dotted, my t's crossed."

"Here's a slip too: Democracy in Literature: my own: it's yours if you want it: file it away: I have

My dear Walt,I regret to say I was unable to do anything with the proof of Personalism.

He said: "Give my love to your mother." And he picked up a big apple from the table.

spent most of the day arguing it over with myself: I needed you to bring me to a conclusion—to end my

We talked politics: Tom is hot about the election but I don't feel my pulse stirred a bit: even my hopes

one regard: it seems to give me a superior niceness which I have never thought of as an element in my

In the Spring Song and the Song of the Depths my orbit responded to the new attracting sun.

Imagine that I have expressed to you my sincere conviction of what I owe to you.The essay is my first

Complained, however: "While that is true, my vim and strength do not return: I despair of recovering

"It don't go very well: my brain is not equal to it: could not cope with it—gets tired, takes my pen

out of my hand."

Finally: "Hicks is entitled to my best—not my worst.

My best would be too little—my worst would be an insult."

"But give my love to all the ferry boys—to Ed Lindell, to Tommy—Tommy Logan—to Foxy, to Eugene Crosby

was not relieved, he said "I don't dare to say I am, for fear I may fall back again—get shame of all my

All the time during the rest of my stay he had the soap at his nose.

I have been making a few notes to-day," said W., "on the subject of my removal from the Interior Department

know, Secretary Harlan took the Leaves even more seriously than Munger: he abstracted the book from my

The more or less anonymous young writers and journalists of Washington were greatly incensed—made my

Louis: 'The removal of Whitman was the mistake of my life.'"

"That is wholly true: you give me my resolution back: I have something I want to say: I still expect

he is eminently present to me always here: no matter what happens, remains vitally with me, sharing my

"Ed, this is one of my friends—this is Horace Traubel." Ed scanned me.

I await it with interest.Please give my best regard to Mr.

W. said: "Tom—here is Ed Wilkins: Ed, this is my friend Tom Harned."

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.

It now takes all my energy merely to get to the chair and back to the bed again.

"I knew the habitats of Hicks so well—my grand-parents knew him personally so well—the shore up there

What all this comes to is, that just that sort of a debate is going on in my mind now, whether to condemn

For thirty years I have had it in my plans to write a book about Hicks.

the procrastinations, stranded, with nothing but a few runaway thoughts on the subject to show for my

But it was only a "preliminary design"—one he may possibly deflect from.Advised me: "Give my best love

Honored Sir—and Dear Poet—I beg you to accept my appreciative thanks for your great kindness in sending

I put the letter in my pocket.

in the Brooklyn days—and even behind Brooklyn—I was to be an orator—to go about the country spouting my

pieces, proclaiming my faith.

W. lying on the bed when I came, but at once got up and with my assistance crossed the room to his chair

"Yes," W. nodded: "it was justified in him: I only hope my own titles will be justified in me."

Yet my heart turns to Sand: I regard her as the brightest woman ever born."

If anything went wrong I would get my stick and hobble down to the water."

I think of Emerson's 'why so hot, my little man?' That seems to me to apply—I adopt it.

"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.

and I am still without the first show of substantial strength—though it is true the acute phases of my

"Yes, indeed, essentially knows it well: I think she takes it in—reads nearly all my books.

My forte was—if I can say it that way—in floating.

After I had written my letter to Emerson I wondered if I had not overdone my call.

My Dear Sir:Mr.

Said as to my inquiries: "I am bad again, very bad—somehow start into a new siege: it is my head, my

At my mention of the 3/4 length—"Ah! yes! that I take to be my right bower!"

s room dark on my entrance, he on bed, and alone in my room.

Adding after my negative response—"He is a good friend of mine, of Leaves of Grass.

I think that quite a work—at least, that was my impression at the time."

I started something with that end in view, but my condition at the time was rather dubious, so that I

"My writing has been clear from the start—almost from boyhood: not beautiful, but legible."

He called my attention to a letter from the West and called it "empty".

I can never know when the door will be banged shut in my face."

They are not my ideals but they are ideals—very lofty ideals." Saturday, July 21, 1888.

I am very warmly disposed towards the South: I must admit that my instinct of friendship towards the

What you tell me goes to confirm my old faith in the masses.

He says: "My head must be much better: otherwise the clatter would have worried me."

I found a copy of The Esoteric under my feet. He regarded me with amused eyes.

publish his book, I will strive to refurbish my contribution and make it better.Dr.

hesitation he said, "I will get it for you—I should get up anyhow"—going then first to the chair with my

leaned very heavily on me—more heavily than I have ever known before—rather by his manner emphasizing my

I shook my head. "Not at all." He laughed gently. "Dry as hell, wasn't it?

My dear Horace:I have yours of the 14th this morning. All quiet.

head: that my head will stand by me to the last."

I had Bucke's letter in my pocket. "How do you come to that conclusion?" I asked.

"I got two anonymous letters in my mail today." "Where are they now?" He smiled.

, through my consciousness since I commenced to be untrammeled in thought: he has given me views which

help to render my 'dark days' endurable and my nights teem with companions.

He travels with me and he points out the goodness of men and things and he intensifies my pleasures by

I thought I knew the greatest American in my dear friend Henry George, but no!

any extreme statement, he seems to hit several real proper nails on their heads—gets pretty close to my

Then said as to Davidson: "Give him my best regards—tell him, if you get the chance (for me particularly

Then away, with promise to stop in tomorrow forenoon on my way to Philadelphia.

I had asked my usual questions.

He followed my mild "yes" with a sort of joy. "Wasn't it a rouser?

I was putting the letter in my pocket.

It gives me a new conception of my own importance in the world.

(Give him my hearty greetings!)

"The text is a little mixed up," W. said of it apologetically: "My mind is not now-a-days a perfect machine

"My brain often takes speed and is away—gets rein-free and flies without will or plan—and I am helpless

"My whole soul revolts against that line: my very first feeling was one of utter disgust."

My place in Washington was a peculiar one—my reasons for being there, my doing there what I did do.

I do not think I quite had my match.

December 3, 1867.My dear Mr.

I cannot and will not consent of my own volition to countenance an expurgated edition of my pieces.

I boil: burn up: but often I keep my mouth shut: I am a slow mover: I don't hurry even in my tantrums

That infernal damned meter's getting on my nerves.

"My head and my heels tell me so."

My mother had sent W. some cookies. "The best part of every man is his mother," said W.

along in the sun and rain and write while I am housed up here in the dust of a dead room eking out my

Stopped in on my way to town. W. reading the Record. He spoke of feeling better.

My father was a great admirer of Lafayette—and Lafayette was indeed a grand man.

As to Lee, he said: "I am very loth to talk of Lee—my tongue, (I do not know but my pen, too) is slow

s raised my ire. W. realized at once that I was mad,—asked, "What is it about?"

Of course it appealed to me, awoke my response.

And to save further signs of dissent W. objected: "No—that is not my view: I do not think that is settled

"It is my opinion that there will be a reaction: we will see"—here he paused: "It will be seen before

This is bound to come: I rest my faith in the final good sense of the nation.

Finally at my suggestion it was understood that I should take it with me in the morning.

He at once replied: "Yes: my reasons against it might be stated that way."

Wonderfully cheerful in the evening on my arrival, talking most freely for more than an hour.

My last thought confirmed my first: it seemed like supererogation to impose such a statement upon the

"But Washington, New Orleans, Brooklyn—they are my cities of romance.

He asked me some questions about my health.

I could not stand before a Millet picture with my hat on." Monday July 23, 1888.

My Dear Whitman:Why have I not written to you? Why has not spring come?

"Yes: that seems to be my life: from the bed to the chair: back to the bed again.

to which he said at once: "I'm never in fact conscious of it: I've never been so bad but my sickness

Eldridge thinks that my publishers are dealing honestly with me.

When one of my books was published they sold the first six months 733 copies.

"I was hoping I'd put my hand on something more significant.

W. in bathroom on my arrival. I sat in his big chair and read till he came back.

Would not repeat my strong words. "No, I try to be more lenient with him. He can't help it!

You can realize my quick denial.

And you are right: if I have nothing to do with it, what my friends or others do I cannot help—but if

"if people would believe that I understand my own business, we would all get along better!"

Whitman:I talked last night to my Waltham class (of forty ladies) about your work and read to them.

I always advise my pupils so.

I always found myself saying that in spite of my reservations.

faith, my sympathy, all leans to the one side."

I picked a sheet of paper up from under my feet. It was written over in W.'s handwriting.

cuss did me lots of good: he left me temporarily in a quarrelsome mood: I hated the room here, and my

lame leg, and my dizzy head: I got hungry for the sun again, for the hills: and though Mary brought

me up a good supper she didn't bring the sort of food required to satisfy a fellow with my appetite.

But later, next day, yesterday, the tramp's gift got into my veins—it was a slow process, but got there

'Well, my young smithkin, you don't believe that? you dissent from that?' 'Yes, I do.' 'Ah!

I have asked myself in the face of criticism of my own work: 'Should I reply—should I expose, denounce

But my final conviction has always been that there is no better reply than silence.

While I am working in my shop the very wood seems written all over with them.

He seems to be very genuine.I send you my last essay—on Ouida. Have you read her Tricotrin?

perhaps in a day or two I may be able to render them in a better shape, when I write again to tell you of my

Here health I bring you in one draught of song Caught in my rhymster's cup from earth's delight Where

I had these letters in my pocket when I saw him today. Letter three he had me read aloud.

"I rely a good deal upon my general feeling about a piece when it comes back to me in type."

Sometimes I think he is a little afraid of my friends.

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!

This always arouses my fears.

As I groped my way for a chair, after shaking hands with him, I asked how he had spent the day.

But he added, after Ed had gone out: "I feel much better now—have felt much better ever since I had my

is made too prominent—when it is indeed insisted upon—when it is too much poked in one's face—I turn my

Perhaps it would be as well to wait and what S. had to say, if anything, in response to my letter.

"I cannot fix the details all accurately in my mind: I get a little rusty sometimes."

"John published that against my persuasions—O'Connor's too: our strong objections: but now I know, we

If you have, I wish you would give me a line of introduction to him for my brother Bertie (Albert) who

But I must wait till my lecture to the Nineteenth Century Club, on Feb. 7, is past.Dr.

"I know: don't you see me on my knees? I admire his I'll do as I damned please ways."

"My head is behaving itself right decently just now. But it's funny, how unambitious my body is.

My fatal procrastination has tripped me up at last.

"My notes are very accurate.

"I want no club founded in my name."

The effect upon me was slow, though one of the surgeons there finally called my attention to my own peril