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328 Mickle Street April 16 '86 My dear T.W., yours with the $304 safely rec'd received by me this afternoon
A-1127 328 Mickle Street Camden Dec. 14 '84 My dear friend Upon the whole I shall have to beg off from
Give my friendliest greetings & wishes to Miss Terry & Mr Irving—Should they, or either, feel any day—say
328 Mickle Street Camden Oct: 13 My dear Williams I should like the little Presidential canvass poem
328 Mickle Street Camden Oct 12 pm My dear Williams After I sent your note in answer yesterday—& reading
328 Mickle Street Camden Oct 11 '84 My dear friend Thank you for your kind & warm invitation to write
Walt Whitman I enclose my last screed in the Critic Walt Whitman to Talcott Williams, 11 October 1884
Camden Aug. 11, 1887 Davis's report of me and my talk, in re the Swinburne article, is very cute and
Street Camden New Jersey May 26 '82 Dear Sir Yours rec'd received —I accordingly mail you a copy of my
328 Mickle Street Camden New Jersey June 9 '85 My dear Baxter I wonder if you could use this in the Outing
do not deserve it—Send word to Mr Lovering, or show him this—I thank him deeply— I am living here in my
a hard job to get from one room to the next)—Am occupied in getting ready the copy of a little book—my
Boughs"—the pieces in prose and verse I have thrown out the last four years— Best love to you & to all my
Mott avenue & 149th Street Station L New York City Aug: August 8 '81 1881 My dear Baxter Yours rec'd
Osgood & Co: are going to publish a complete & new volume of my poems, & I am coming on to see to & oversee
M Oct: 7 '87 Dear friend Yours with the $12 has reach'd me safely—making $800 altogether sent me by my
late—was out driving yesterday, & shall probably go out for an hour this afternoon—Thanks to you & my
Camden New Jersey Evn'g Jan: 5 '89 I want to send at once my brief thanks & appreciation of y'r notice
Ontario, Canada —and one to John Burroughs, Esopus-on-Hudson, New York — I write in N Y, but the above is my
328 Mickle Street Camden New Jersey May 25 '87 Thanks & God bless you my dear Sylvester Baxter for your
feeling pretty well as I write—Should most gratefully accept & most intensely enjoy a little spot of my
Camden N J June 2 '82 Dear Baxter My friend John Sands, a veteran magazine & newspaper writer, has just
suggests to me impromptu—Yes I am making calculation on a conveniently plann'd & built house, & garden, of my
O'Reilly's, K's & your hands (& any others if any others there be)—putting it in a draught payable to my
order & send it to me here—I feel as if I could suit my wants & tastes better probably deciding & directing
know too how appreciatingly & gratefully I feel ab't their help—& that I appoint you to fully act as my
Camden, New Jersey Aug: 13 '91 Let me send my little word too to J R Lowell's memory.
Commemoration Ode," which has often, since its publication, been contrasted with Whitman's own tribute, "O Captain
My Captain!" For further information on Whitman's views of Lowell, see William A.
My love to Ed and Debby and the whole family.)
As I am going up & may not be down again soon, I wish Debby to take charge of my big pillow, as it was
made by & given me by my mother, & she slept on it & I shall want it again.
—I am here coop:d up just as closely & helpless as ever—don't get my health or strength an atom more—Sit
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
Camden Friday afternoon May 6 My dear friend I am sorry to hear of your feeling so unwell, & have thought
while I was there)—I had a lively time in Boston—Susan I wish you could have been there the evening of my
such a collection of people as would have suited you, & been a study—different from any I ever saw in my
them from the usual crowd—about 300—(I will tell you more when I see you)— As I write this part of my
supper, & here I am in perfect quiet up in my room, finishing my letter—Susan my dear friend I hope
March 6 Dear friend The days go along with me pretty much after the old sort, though I dont don't get my
did in the fall & early winter—I busy myself writing some & reading a little—am doing quite well with my
books, & have been all winter—when the weather permits I try to get out, but my strength soon fails
think of coming down next Friday to stay two or three days at any rate—a friend of mine here about my
a long letter from her last week—Susan I am afraid this is not a very lively letter—I have just had my
January 6 '86 My dear friend I am sitting here in my little front room down stairs writing this—a good
good oak fire—Am still imprison'd in the sick room—Keep up spirits pretty fair, but weak as ever in my
friends from seeing me)—& for a month or so I was in a horrible plight—a nuisance to myself & all—but my
here in the room—Mrs Davis has just been in & wishes to send her love to you, & says come up & see us—my
is well, & seems to be well off & satisfied—young Harry Bonsall died there three or four weeks ago—my
sisters at Greenport L I and Burlington Vermont are ab't as usual—my brother & sister Lou are well at
Whitman: "Because you have, as it were, given me a ground for the love of men I thank you continually in my
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
had a strange chill, rattled me for two hours lively—one or two since but milder—the doctor thinks my
stay here perhaps the ensuing week—The family, (& a fine one they are) are at Newport for the summer—my
combination of character from any you ever saw—& one I am sure you would like—And then the father himself, my
am only middling well—seem to be getting clumsier than ever, more loguey —rheumatic & other ailments—My
Dear friend I am still here neither worse nor better—but keeping in my sick room & in the big old chair—have
had something to see to in printing my books & it has probably done me more good than harm—& it all
everything—George & Harry, as far as you know—& how are you yourself—I am sitting here alone up in my
room, writing this—Mrs: Davis has been an hour or two ago out to the City Hall to pay my taxes (over
I am not over my bad spell yet, but a little better perhaps—Harry is getting along very well —was up
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
D and Ed Wilkins (my nurse) are good & so far I get along fairly with appetite, grub & sleep wh' of course
hear from him often—I had a letter from Ruth enclosed, (tho' I suppose she has written to you)—I send my
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
cooking—Otherways I have been here in C. all the time, have done a little work writing, but nothing much,—My
little talk—did me good to meet them—I dont don't think Jersey has two nicer looking boys—I was on my
got there I found the elder A. was dead & buried —so I have just had to write the sad intelligence to my
Camden Sunday afternoon Jan: 30— My dear friend, I rec'd received your good letter some days since, &
write you—it is now ½ past 2, after dinner, & I have been writing & fixing up a composition alone in my
morning May 3 '87 Dear friend I got home all right Sunday afternoon—had a nice enjoyable ride—enjoyed my
visit anyhow—Yesterday I felt pretty dry, up in my room, & made a glass of drink, water, sugar & vinegar—from
that bottle you gave me—such as I remember my dear mother making sixty years ago, for my father, of
a hot day, when I was a little boy—& my drink went well too—Nothing new of any importance with me—Send
have just written him a few lines—told him ab't Harry —Warm & sunny to-day & I am sitting here with my
Whitman: "Because you have, as it were, given me a ground for the love of men I thank you continually in my
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
As I write, the sun is out, & my bird singing—I have had my dinner, mutton-stew, onions, & greens—(I
writing a little to order—got up late to-day—had chocolate & buckwheat cakes with quince jelly for my
but I expected to come down myself, or send word—but one thing or another delays the publication of my
coming week—I will bring you one when I come down—there is lots in about the pond & the old lane &c. and my
dark equinoctial storm—but I just wish I was down there this minute—a day there in the woods— —Where my
dictionaries &c. you can think of, & everything else— —Nothing very new with me—I still keep well—eat my
allude to his visit to America, but there may be something in it — —I feel better—am working a little at my
booklet yesterday and to-day—my head feels easier, but the weakness especially in getting about & in
my knee power is fearful—Hope you & George and Ed & Deb & Jo & the young one are jolly & sitting up—
July 8th 1888 My dear Walt; I have followed your illness with breathless concern—that is, what I could
Camden Feb: 22 Evening My dear friend I still keep around & have been over to Philadelphia this afternoon
Herbert was here last evn'g very good visit—Hot weather here—Am pretty ill—one of my worst spells—now
a week—half the time stretch'd out on the bed—half the time in my big chair as now—Love to you all—glad
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
Camden Wednesday Evn'g: Aug: 22 '88 Still keeping in my sick room.
My brother Eddy that was at Moorestown is now at Blackwoodtown. Is well.
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
Camden Saturday Afternoon July 21 '88 Rather easier to-day—am writing a little & at my proofs (the little
new book "Nov: Boughs" )—have just rec'd three letters, one from my English friend Ernest Rhys, friend
usual—havn't been anywhere (though several invitations)—I keep good spirits, but grow clumsier & clumsier, & my
Whitman: "Because you have, as it were, given me a ground for the love of men I thank you continually in my
winter—yet every thing goes on comfortably with me—I am sitting here by the window down stairs, in my
big chair, writing this—(the sun shining outside, & my little canary singing furiously in his cage in
Susan I enclose a letter Herbert sent me some months ago—nothing particular—Ed I still wish to sell my
Camden Thursday Evening June 2 My dear friend I suppose it must look fine down there after the heavy
fruit & grain— Nothing very new with me—the big Boston house has sent me word that they will publish my
stands now—I find I can have them publish it, if I choose, but I suppose I am getting pretty lofty in my
old days & must have my own terms, & pretty good ones too— I am feeling pretty well—I think my last
, & a prospect of some pleasant days, sufficiently cool— I am alone in the house, have been all day—My
suppose you know all about it & have had the same—I still keep well & in good trim, thank the Lord—eat my
—Mrs G appears to be about well again— It is now 12½ Sunday—it is moderated, & the sun has come out—my
Camden June 19 1890 My dear friend & all It is a wonderful fine day, cool enough & I am feeling fairly—every
was glad to see him—he looks well—I hear from Dr Bucke f'm Canada, & f'm Edw'd Carpenter —he is well—my
Whitman: "Because you have, as it were, given me a ground for the love of men I thank you continually in my
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
19 Ap Harry has been here—is in good spirits & is surely getting along very well—I am getting over my
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
here, but cold enough outside frozen hard— O why hast thou bleach'd these locks, old Time yet left my
1844, that is about "an aged man" who meets a young man and tells him, "I was like thee, once gay, my
son, — / Sweet pleasure filled my heart," but "conquering time / Hath bleached my locks so gray."
been out now for three weeks—am writing—wish I c'd send you some nice doughnuts Mrs: D made yesterday—my
neice still in Saint Louis—my two sisters both bad health—Best Love to Harry and to Ed —Geo: must keep
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
would like that I c'd get up here, you write me, & it w'd be a pleasure to me to get it—I send George my