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Called out "Horace" with great cordiality—took and held my hand—said, "I had wondered what had become

And I explained my absence—he assenting, "I know—it was all right—I am not disposed to question it.

Said he had no word from Talcott Williams yet anent Reisser colloquy—"my type-written copy" he called

In my pocket a copy of [Harper's] Young People—beautiful double-page engraving by Baude of "The Divine

When you get in town, somewhere within handling of a copy of the Century Dictionary, look up my word,

I feel he is not averse to me or my care.

Am up to my eyes (and over) in work.Love to AnneYoursR. M. Bucke 6:20 P.M. In at W.'s.

This—the great revolution of feeling—my recognition of it all—I have had a notion to acknowledge—say,

Informed me, "I wrote my first letter today—a short one. It was for my sister, Mrs.

It shoots in lively style about my body, but chiefly in the legs.

For one thing I gave him out of it set of proofs of my Lippincott's piece.

: "With the poems I always have a certain sort of conscience that I must not give them out, even to my

I stood before him and read to him from Conservator, first page, my question anent Chadwick's note.

Go with my blessing."

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.

He held my hand then without change till I said good-bye.

Tell him my love is with him daily & hourly.

Also give my love to that little wife Annie whom I forgot in my other letter.

And to my assent, "And did he say it was all in good order, in no way damaged?"

Said W. thereupon, "My latest judgment is like my first—that this is far and above the best thing we

as he is—calling my attention to some of the portraits—particularly Schiller's—saying of this—"What a

I laughed at the glow, but told W. what had been the substance of my letter: then asking him: "Don't

shall drink very little myself—it would not do—only enough to taste—to be satisfied it is right—that my

PRIVATE [London, Ont.,] 29 Jan [18]90 My dear HoraceYou know that for a long time I have thought (and

or if not surely you could run the subsidy up to this amount—I would willingly make my $3. a month $5

But I had The Ethical Record in my pocket (January issue).

I said: "I usually get my copy Saturday anyhow."

own possibilities, probabilities: reckoned up my own account, so to speak.

All this time I held the Redpath letter opened in my hand.

It is a waste of breath for my friend to tell me I am healthy when my pulse records the circumstance

And after I had gone on with my description, "How much does it come to?

Said, "I will have my right hand put into the water; no matter about my left."

Said, "This is one of my weakest times."

Button would like the champagne, "Give it to him with my best love."

s immediately after his dinner and before my tea the last few nights and am glad.

Stopped at my newsstand this evening—examined Forum—scribbled on a piece of wrapping paper about a bundle

Also gave me red-lined sheet "To My 71st Year." Had used big pen. "I use it altogether.

its author, at all points of its meaning—so that things perhaps plain to Doctor are not so plain to my

reading it over lately, and it occurs to me that I might have been raspy—raspy—in the assertion of my

Showed her two letters to W.: "It does my heart good to see her hand again."

s on my way home, and found him in his bedroom, making up some papers etc. for Bernard O'Dowd, Victoria

over before he went to bed, and "leave out in the hall," so I could secure it early in the morning, on my

He minds me most often of a captain—a great captain—chosen for a tempestuous voyage—everything against

It was from him I learned many of my best things about Lincoln.

It was a flash out of heaven: the man was a hero to me at once: I was enthusiastic over my discovery.

It was typical of the common soldier—not uncommon in any sense: my experience has been full of just such

My dear Sir,I hardly know through what a malign series of crooked events—absence chiefly on my part in

This is now framed and hangs in my bedroom.

My sister, Tom's wife, sent him a spring chicken.

It printed my Grant piece."

All my own tastes are towards books you can easily handle—put into your pocket.

"It is a struggle—has been a damnable day—horrible—one of my worst." Looked bad.

W. then, "But I don't feel well—feel the worst—my damnablest."

When Horace showed me his make from the notes, I drew my blue pencil through it, by way of suggestion

Morris exclaims, "My! How I have enjoyed all this!

Give Nellie my dear love. Tell her about me." Morris had put this in today's Bulletin.

Since then I have not seen my hat," which I found after some search downstairs in the parlor.Left with

Some reference being made to eyesight, W. exclaimed, "Well—that's my case exactly—I am getting worse

and worse fixed—so that by and by my sight will be altogether gone."

may have had its good effect: except that we must not forget there's no way under heaven to give me my

All my faculties seem to be settling down into a masterly incompetency, dullness."

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.

"It was all done, except for capping, in my time.

"Yes, it has all my fortunes! Watch, bankbook, pocketbook, everything."

I stood over him and dictated as he wrote—he making out check in my name.

figures, through which I have drawn my pencil.

As, in fact, I think is usually the case with my manuscript.

The misfortune of the case is, that he happens to be married to my sister. You know the Mrs.

side, who commerces my anxieties, troubles, trials—my brotherly affections—and my sister there, she

Why," he added, "I always went in my early days to the 25-cent place in the theatre, and it was my breath

My early life especially was full of it.

My intimate friends would have their best fun with a man who brought them such a doubt!"

Said of his condition: "Till this evening, my day has been very poor—a poor one indeed.

That has been my course from the first—to write what I must write—not hesitatingly but decisively—and

But I found no change from my first impression.

I have been recommended by quite a dozen—and a dozen of the best fellows—my fellows, friends—to read

I have often felt, my good luck with the women has been phenomenal!"

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

I am disposed more and more to keep to my room—not to go out. Which I see—count—to be a bad sign."

W. not home the moment of my call, so I sat down in the parlor, reading and waiting.

buildings which he could descry from his position on the wharf—"the big buildings—all gone up since my

My description appeared greatly to interest him, and he questioned me keenly in detail, as is his wont

Dave will leave it absolutely in my hands to arrange.

"You'll find it easily," he said, "say I sat in my usual place up there—my chair turned this way"—wheeling

During the pause he laughed very gently and took my hand and said: "See—I am off again—talking about

my health—as if there was nothing in the world but my pains and aches to be considered."

That eases my conscience." We exchanged rolls of proofs.

My sister Gussie had sent him in some asparagus. "Oh! it was princely!

Spent the rest of my timetilluntil bed writing letters for W. Friday, July 6, 1888.

I said Gosse had shown a leaning my way—was more than cursorily courteous and warm.

It will serve to back up my answer. Was it you who asked me?""Yes—I asked the question."

Dear Sir:When my friend Mr.

The Leaves of Grass have become a part of my every-day thought and experience.

Harry has always been ten times over my friend where once would have done.

—some of them in a wrapper improvised from the envelope of one of my letters.

s on my way home at 5.30. He sat fanning himself—the day very hot.

My newsman gave me a copy of the Atlantic (specimen) of December last.

Finally he admitted my distinction, and further that he perhaps did Ingersoll injustice.At 7.20, hurrying

For one thing, it gives me a wedge-shaped head—yet my head is not wedge-shaped—nor is the bust: if anything

, my head is rather chunky."

The Herald brings back one of the good stories of my dear Daddy: there was a man named Smith, or something

, who ran off, owing a lot of money, among others to my father—perhaps a hundred dollars or so to him

My offer to light the gas was rejected, though he used my arm to assist him in doing the thing for himself

Then he reached forward and took my hand. "I see what you mean, Horace.

"When a man comes to my pass he'd best take the next step as quickly as possible."

But that work—that work: we must get it done before I write down 'finis' next my name."

Is this my sorry face?

Found Longaker sitting there with W., Longaker immediately going on my entrance, having other patients

doubting laugh, "It is always funny—sometimes exhilarating—to me, to be sometimes told after one of my

I had the Lippincott's proof with me, would leave it till eight, to call then to have my own look at

W. contends still, "This is my 73rd, not my 72nd birthday"—meaning that the 72nd anniversary is the 73rd

shoulder (I was working)—that my signature was one of the hardest he knew to imitate.

Though away at the moment of my coming, W. was not long in making his appearance.

I have made up my mind that Harry and Buckwalter should have copies—so as Harry was here, I thought he

"It is not my funeral, you know!"

I have often taken to wondering lately, if my Quaker habit of waiting for the spirit or Socratic demon

I find anyhow that a great many of my readers credit my writings with things that do not attach to the

Rose on my entrance. Today I got from Ferguson revised proofs reaching to page fifty-six.

"I told Mary to tell him my head was too sore.

He took my hand.

I shall (as I see now) continue to be my own publisher and bookseller.

Each book has my autograph. The Two Volumes are my complete works, $10 the set."

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

However, those few lines will at least serve as an unambiguous testimony of my deep and true devotion

eyes.Ever yours sincerely and affectionatelyEdward Bertz W. remarked: "I am well aware of it, that my

I had with me, a rough manuscript of my book matter, and read to him from it, here and there.

British readers," and I replied that in making up the volume I was not seeking to please anybody—that my

plan was, the matter having been put in my charge, to give what I thought the most fitting record of

"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.

Except for the Whitman portions pretty dry—not well put and kept together—but enheightens my respect

As to physicians spoken of yesterday, said: "I have often resolved I would some day record my testimony

warmth penetrates I penetrate those cities myself, All islands to which birds wing their way I wing my

Complains of the day, that "it has been a bad one—not one of my worst, but a bad one decidedly."

I expressed my high value put on the poem, and spoke of its "power." This appeared to strike him.

In the Herald days, though they presented on to fifty of my pieces, never but once or twice—probably

It is evidently drawn to my order—intended for me—I ought to have it."

I said, "In reading of the terrific loss there—ten millions or more—my first wonder was, that a town

I feel I must return to my first love. The summary is brief, yet always definite and satisfactory.

Upon my protest he said: "No, it's all right: I was just thinking whether I should not go over to the

My own personal choice among books is for those you can put in your pocket."

My dear Mr. Whitman:Allow me to introduce to your acquaintance my young friend, Mr. E. H.

visit to you last March, when I was on my way home from Johns Hopkins University.

Pardon my delay in acknowledging, due to illness.

W. reading Century which he laid down on my entrance. Reported his health "rather on the improve."

book: I'm still uncertain where he is—whether he has yet got back to West Park or not: I addressed my

Didn't my lower stomach shout to my upper stomach with loud halloos!

My talk with him must have sunk in.

I remember what poor William says: he says I always like my idiot pictures best!"

Davis, and he instantly recognized me and called my name, "Horace? You here?" and we shook hands.

he asked, and to my "yes," he asked, "Is it very cold?"

"Always my love." I described the cold clear skies and the moon ascended north-east.

I kissed him good-bye and he pressed my hand, "Good night, Horace: bless you! Bless you!"

I have no question but if I could meet him I could wheedle him about my thumb, and you can do it as well

He then, "I am sure it will come about all right: I usually find that my good demon does not nap in an

W. asked about it—then, to my remark that C.Carpenter had no striking literary gifts, was acquiescent—adding

The thought occurs to me that if you would all like it, I would come over that night and read my Lincoln

address—read on that 'My Captain.'

It was putting my own feeling into words. Seemed to sum him up!"

W. then: "Take my advice: shut up!"

I hope, therefore, my paragraphing may be permitted by the benignant printer.

I was horrified to learn that my footnote about Lowell was set as per copy.

I am rummaging my memory for an epigraph for the appendix, as you requested.

Friday, March 18, 1892W. not asleep on my round (8:15) but not in shape to say much.

During my visit was turned on right side but could not lie long; cough soon annoyed him.

He saw me and called my name.

Then I asked, "Did Webster send you a check for my fund?" "No, no check—it was only a letter."

I hurried in, the Bolton letter in my hand.

s condition will improve—still, I must confess to you, Horace, my hopes are not any too strong—the physical

Give them my love—tell them all the good things you can of ways here—all that."

I am glad you were on hand last night to say your word of dissent, and my word in the bargain."

mast—roughing it in that line a life through—but he was a man, every inch of him—as I may say it again, using my

I should wish everywhere to bear my testimony to him.

Called my attention at once to another postal from Washington.

"I can't be arrogant with myself—can't absolutely subdue myself: my fears will spring up—then my hopes

"I wrote my usual postal to William—also a postal to the Doctor."

He therefore said: "I am getting pretty near my financial edge—my limit.

He was a little twitted by my stubbornness. I saw it.

free and winged words—words that have thundered and ennobled the hearts and lives of millions—that my

As she fixed the bed, she mentioned my name, "Mr. Traubel is here."

Also Bucke—24th—calling my attention to "Death's Valley," not knowing I know too that it was not unchangedly