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A few minutes, too, with my mother, and some parleying at the Post Office.

My father would not come here, though he went to Harleigh.

(My heart smote me: his last ride—now, into the rift and mystery!)

My daughter & his second daughter, Helen, were intimate friends, & from my sister, Mrs.

my name, & that is what I did not like to do.

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.

W. reading Record, which he laid down instantly on my entrance. Had gone through the Press.

"Hardly: but I know it—I have sized it up: he has my respect: his erudition is profound.

"I frequently wake up so, but I get my nerve back as the day wears on."

"Yes," he said: "my appetite went back on me—lost its edge."

"I wrote on your account, not my own." I said: "I'd rather never have gone to him."

"It is amazing—or at least tantalizing—how many important matters slip my mind.

My memory for new things is becoming less and less dependable—markedly so."

On my way to the Whitman meeting in Philadelphia W. advised me, upon my questioning: "Should you feel

moved to say anything, tell them, you came here this evening, found me here on the lower floor, in my

, massage—by my young friend here"—he will never say nurse—"who knows well how to handle me—knows to

Perhaps he will not pay that, but that is my price." Gave me last number of Review of Reviews.

Some of your late prose has not been to my mind up to your standard—but your verse has not fallen off

excursion but I doubt if it comes to anything—I really have no plans at present—think perhaps it may end in my

But tell me when you want to come and I will keep that in my head in making plans.As far as I myself

That was my impression. It has left a pain with me: I can hardly shake it off. But the letter—oh!

"I feel as if every bone in my body was being shaken up."

W. said to him, "The last 15 hours have been the worst in my experience."

This last day has been the worst in my history—and it's been a hard history, some parts of it."

So I tried my own hand in the box in the corner and really found half a dozen.

Also I have your "Telegram"—many thanks.Now as for my attitude towards Arthur Stedman and his book?

I should have a number of copies—for my friends, for my family.

Said W.: "I have sent my usual postal—told him you had forwarded the paper."

My God! will my friends never know me for what I am? Of course if I chose—then I would choose!

you have quite taken the wind out of my sails: I feel helpless."

Edward lectures: that should have been my business, too: if I'd gone direct to the people, read my poems

Sometimes I think I eat too much—am not cautious enough—though caution is one of my strong points, too

At my mention of Bucke, "Dear, dear Doctor!" And of Ingersoll, "Dear, dear Ingersoll, too!"

Would he object to my giving copy of his Bolton letter to Kennedy for the Transcript?

The old ferry has been a part of my life, not to be wiped out but with life itself."

W.: "Easier—not at my worst." Warrie: "How does the cough—eased up?" W.: "Kind 'o—" (Pause.

Laughed: "As the writer says, 'I wrap my mantle about me,' and sit down to pleasant thought!"

He was very affectionate—on my leaving took my hand—"Good-bye—bless you, boy!"

Spoke of my trip to New York.

Traubel:I am glad you called my attention to the Contemporary Club bill.

He was so new in every way and I shocked my wife by saying—"He reminds me of Jesus in some way."

My impression was of a new force introduced into life, and because it killed a lot of sacred prejudices

My judgement has and will confirm.He is deep in life and I love life.

My love to her. It is curious you do not hear from Mrs.

He was not asleep on my entrance—his eyes wide open, facing the light.

"Yes, that is my idea, but I leave the final decision to him.""

Yes, say it is my wish—wish, not order: I acknowledge his privilege.""

Found my letter from Arthur Stedman awaiting me.

Called my attention at once to the following postal from Mrs. O'C.:Washington, March 12, 1889.

Whitman,' said he, 'I should like to read you my drama and get your opinion of its merits.'

My dear Walt Whitman.I have indeed been extremely sorry to hear firstly from the transmitted paper of

Society, I pressed him for two years ago (when he had previously sent me some very fine articles for my

"Let it come out just as the big book did—from my hands alone."

He said: "I hold my negative, to be used if necessary."

it in my memory."

Proofs were ready—on bed—rolled up, and I put them in my pocket.

husband is a little too sensitive: I see nothing amiss in the footnote—do not mind to have him speak of my

Spent a good part of today, like yesterday, up stairs—"in my big arm chair there—God bless my big arm

I have my doubts—minor doubts—but somehow I decide the case finally on my own side.

Howells, James and some others appear to think I rest my philosophy, my democracy, upon braggadocio,

I find that Ingersoll is not altogether my man: does not say all my say for me: that is, is right in

Never had I thought in my days (during my lifetime) to get a spirit (or ghost, none of the expressions

of having received the pocket edition—but never says a word about the dinner—evidently had not got my

W. had said at the outset: "As they say at Washington, I will give the matter my thoughtful consideration

Not that I thought much about it—only, that was my impression, gathered of long doubt and dubiosity.

There came at the end of one month there, a check for my usual amount—the usual stipend.

Will let me get out the card my own way. Wednesday, June 4, 1890

I met my young guide at whirlpool again, the Tweed Coast man.

But yet I must exchange my token for yours—brazen for golden gifts, as the Greek poet said.

The misfortune of my poem is that it presupposes much knowledge of antiquity—as for instance that this

"Any consecutive reading hurts my head—I cannot apply myself."

W. took my jog kindly.

Wrote in a firm hand in my presence, the card resting on his knees.

I laughed and he, laughing too, remarked: "You must not laugh at my shoes—I am tremenjuously proud of

"Yes—and it will be as hard to get suited in this as for me in my shirts.

When I go to order my shirts, the man will say to me, with a mixture of compassionateness, superiority

What right have you to protest against my having what I want and will pay for?'

It has always been one of my finer joys, to watch the varied, varying, ever-changing, inter-locking,

—as it had—though now, as he said, "there is a sweet breeze—I feel it on my head as I sit here"—gently

take it so near a neighbor has sure access to him), you would kindly inquire whether or no he received my

"My hot-blood days are all gone, now, all gone—it is the evening chill!"

Wondered what my notion was about Moore: "Why do you suppose he wrote you?

Of course, I don't know any more about it than you do, but I give you my guess.

(My own position on these theological disputes ought to be understood—to have no part in them.

And thank God I have room for all—I take up my skirts for no one!)

"I do poorly, poorly: this has been as bad a day as any since my sickness began.

The doctor just two hours ago said my pulse was very good—I have eaten my meals today with some relish—so

the trouble don't seem to be primarily with my heart or my stomach.

I always thank my friends for pointing out any oversights that occur in my book.

W. humorously said: "Music is my worst punishment." I asked: "How's that?" "Oh!"

was along-shore at about that place I had learned to swim as a boy, and W. was greatly interested in my

My dear Mr.

to grasp your hand on your birthday.Yours very truly,William Carey "I guess I'll have to let you do my

was all right: Johnson said the advertisements of pictures for autographs were honestly put forth, in my

When I asked him if he was on his way home—he said laughing—"I am on my way to the river—which is as

New England Magazine piece), "I think I will get you to set out at greater length—more definitively—my

It is a thing which ought to be plainly said—which my books do not make naked, plain—which perhaps I

He told this once to Bucke (substantially) in my presence.

This time voice, all, strong, pictorial, eloquent.I told W. it was my mother's birthday. "Oh!

"It is a trifle," he said, "but trifles are indicative: tell her that my heart goes with it."

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

So I read, he intent upon my word and my face, as I saw in several times looking up.

Ed carried the bust there from Harned's, and my father superintended the job. W. "Glad it is done."

My stay but brief. Ed reported W. as "quite bad" today.

Was perfectly satisfied with my arrangement of it.

revelation—brought me conviction of many stray thoughts, observations—was in itself confirmation of my

the Post—was coming upon my close—reserving for the end my sally, my big guns—as the Irish carter, who

It sat down without mercy on my Irishman's spirit.

When I told him my trouble in doing this—"Well—it was well done at last, which is the important point

anada] as agreed—all right—June 8 just past noon—So-soish to-day—have eaten a small mutton chop for my

"Not the least of my blessings," said W. on my entrance to his bedroom, where he sat reading, "is this

northwest breeze, which has been blowing in my window all the day long," and he added, "Last night we

Merry over my face, lost almost in the trees on the hill.

Asked me—pointing to table, "Did you see my lilies? Exquisite, eh?

—and with my love." Meanwhile taking them out himself."

What an idea, that about my reciting, reading, declaring my own poems!

I enjoy criticisms of my work even if I do not feel to justify them.

I am keen about all that myself—jealous of my right to fall down and break my neck if I choose."

He called my attention to the medallions, duly signed, tied up, with a label on the outside designating

them as my property.

I could not tell how to get it, but I can recognize my own when it appears."

My quarrel with the most of what purports to be history is that it is not history at all.

"I always leave my title-page till the last and always keep a full set of proof-pages as I go along.

It has always been my habit to do so: I have found it a very good way."

Asked me about my country trip last night—of the great rains and how I traversed them, interpolating

Whether in my first moody, demoniac criticality I do them injustice, that remains to be seen.

He laughed at my excuses.

People criticised my article for its applause—it was "too strong."

Said he: "The older I grow, the broader, deeper, larger that word Solidarity is impressed on my convictions—Solidarity

My niece had written in the course of a note to my sister, "There is a nasty dirty polecat prowling around

W. laughed uproariously over my recital of this. "It's too good to keep!"

which says, the August number of Lippincott's is to contain a poem by Walt Whitman called 'Good-Bye My

It is like the arbor business on my birthday. Have you Doctor's letter with you? Yes?"

Had he seen how Tucker in Liberty had taken up my debate with Trumbull?

—"to rest and let the billows brush over him"—he said, "You have hit the secret there—that has been my

"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

As usual, W. was not at home at the moment of my arrival, though coming soon after.

My dear Mr. Traubel,You will be alarmed at my corrections.

But they are absolutely necessary & you must let me pay for the proof changes—My "involved style!"

But again I came back to my early notion, whether it was not as well for men to observe the dial of the

Then, "I do not suppose there is any great mystery about my condition.

hide from a doctor)—that even now, as I sit here—and from only the little talk with you two fellows—my

I perhaps give only vague expression to my idea, but it is quite clear in my own mind.

I have my differences, he has his, but we agree in the main, which is enough."

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."

He lay on bed in his room—his eyes open—his look rather vacant: seemed a little startled by my entrance

Spoke of "the wonderful beauty of the pictures—all of them: they raise my wonder and admiration.

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.""

Now that my mind has got back to good weather again I feel more or less satisfied.

I have seen in the later years of my life exemplifications of devilishness, venom, in the human critter

which I could not have believed possible in my more exuberant youth—a great lump of bad with the good

I quoted an old woman, my friend, a Presbyterian, who said: "My head says hell but my heart won't say

and in their list a month or two after my arrival in London as a student of life and letters this year

s on my way home (5.10) to leave one set of proofs of my piece for the book.

should not spread things out—I should keep both letters and speeches well together"—which was precisely my

I referred to McKay—my reference to him in the introduction—that some thought Dave's act in espousal

W. reports again, "This has been a horribly poor day, one of my worst—even now I am little if any better

Take them—take them with my love." Warrie quite determined to go to New York to meet Bucke.

I saw myself in it—my idea. I am not afraid but you go straight to my intention in such reports."

Walt," he said, "I want to get something from you for my next issue.

And my friend, in telling me the story, said he saw his mistake at once, but Whitman never noticed it

Then: "I can easily see that what you say is true: for my part these things have little value: but I

Especially now do I need other fodder: my mind is in such a state I need food which will frivol it.

I want to frivol my evening away." He was very earnest.

companion in my delinquency!'"

Though we have never met personally, I have heard of you from my mother and sister.

He admits: "Out-of-doors is my savior this winter."

And turning the pages of the Weekly—"This is my despair—all this sumptuousness, elegance.

Then—on my asking what he had clipped from the Tribune extract (I noticed it was cut): "There were two

said as I greeted him at the door, "Your hand is most frozen," and I remarked it to W., "Take care—my

The book to include my preface." I had offered to Mrs. O'Connor to read proofs.

"I was on my last man," he remarked, "and would have sent Warrie out to skirmish for them tomorrow.

I shall put them in my own drawer—keep them for mine own humor—and think of you as my messenger."

Would I stop to see him: "Drop a little reminder that I have not my copy of Reisser talk."