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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!"

my body against his.

My God! has my love of life survived? have my dreams survived?" A sob burst from his throat.

"Horace: you must return as my delegate to Walt: take my body and take my soul, with you: set them down

God was on my side after all.

I run my pennants up up into the air and fill the skies with my cry: Victory is mine forever!"

s on my way to Germantown, as he expected.

Then I remembered that he was my mother's son, my brother—not my counsellor.

Now my voice is stronger. I ask—why will you not speak to me?

For the first time I act as my nature prompts me.

Farewell, my dear friend.

stirs my curiosity—makes me wonder how far I survived in his good graces.

I reminded W. of Captain Lindell's wife, who suffered similarly. W.

oh my yes!" "I wondered: I wondered."

all the people who really know me, my work, consider, include, love, admire, William.

"Good: that's it: my soul won't let me. That's the way we have to keep up the balance."

he is my old boss." Adding: "Evarts was a very kind, friendly fellow." In the literary way?

Germantown, Sunday night,March 3d, 1889.My dear Traubel:Now that you and Doctor Bucke are gone I have

My God! but he's a time-taker: he's slower'n pitch on a frosty morning!

My lameness is very bad, and I am very exhausted before many hours pass each day.

of the bowels, and must, under medical orders, resort to artificial means, and this is my remedy.

To my: "I do," he answered: "The situation as I see it now is a good deal worse than I had supposed."

body thus and so: the question is my mind's question, not my body's: the mind, not the body, must answer

Knowing my name would be called I slipped out the back door. Salter asked for W.'

B. said: "I have no call to speak for Walt about this but my impression is that while he believes the

so—in my friends than in my enemies."

Chamberlin's letter shows that DeLong got my letter of last Friday—though where this W.W. meeting was

Well, Horace, having pleased William and Nellie, I may rest on my oars."

I doubt if that does any good: I think my friends, some of my friends, quite understand that that is

He pointed his finger towards me: "Leave it to you in my will." Laughed.

My life now seems very pale and poor compared with those days.

cold still persists: my head is still much choked by it."

work finally makes on me—the response it meets with, in my own consciousness."

Still at times my thoughts all go back ["God knows, John!

I can't get back my ruminating habit.

Then: "After my meal, my dinner, I put up the sash—so—on all these milder days: today is debatable ground

I do not know what I carry in my arms pressed close to my side and bosom!

I turn my steps to "Zion's Mill" a cemetery.

My womb is clean and pure. It is ready for thy child my love.

how lovingly will I cherish and guard it, our child my love. Thine the pleasure my love.

My motives are pure and holy. Our boy my love! Do you not already love him?

Adding then by the way of definiteness: "But I have just finished my breakfast—relished it: relished

Bucke said no: "I would rather not have my name used at all in that connection: O'Connor has a doctor

: "You don't: instead of doing me harm it does me good to have you fellows here: it lifts me out of my

I've found the Chamberlin letter: since you brought it back I got it messed away among the papers on my

My friend Baxter sent us his copy of your big book with notes, one or two, from you, pasted in.You do

But he said: "I am not myself today: I am very uncomfortable in my head: very uncomfortable in my belly

Went off to town to keep my appointment with Bucke.

My dear Walt:I snatch five minutes from writing up the wrecks.

I shook my head.

Said to Bucke: "I am not at my worst—neither at my best."

I met Harned up the street, he to his, I to my home. Afterwards both to W.'

W. said: "I can't bring my heart to say amen to that."

I said: "That makes my definition of heaven apropos." W. asked: "What's that?"

W. looked over at Tom: "Do you think the world would accept my poem?"

10.30 on my way back passed 328. I did not intend to go in.

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."

"My father was booked in all those things—took a great caper at all the progressive fellows.

A death in my sister's family (today) will require my devotion, etc., for a few days.

To my description of the first glimpse of the Capitol: "Yes, it is grand—vast: it sits so proudly on

Attorney General Speed.Sir: I notice that it is the intention of holding Captain Wirz responsible for

I was nearly eleven months held there as a prisoner and I know that Captain Wirz was uniformly kind to

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.

"I don't know what it is—the weather, some meteoric influence, what—but I feel like the devil: my head

Bucke hilarious: "My God! has it come to this?"

I said: "That would not go in my pocket."

Bucke said: "My tailor is a pope: he does as he pleases." W. laughed over that.

W. gave me a letter for my "data chest" as he called it.

Harned, my sister Gussie, the boy, Clifford, along. W. in bright mood. Talked fluently.

Picked up a box of candies which he gave to my sister.

In the midst of some talk, W. turned to my sister: "And the baby?"

Then: "Yes: yes: Priestley is my man too—my man as you present him, but not my man in the aspect these

W. said: "Tom, all of you are too good to me: my friends: you give me so much without my asking I'd feel

I must give you a copy then: I must have several here: he is one of my old—as also new—enthusiasms.

I insist on my cheap little figure"—here he raised his right foot into view and pointed to it with his

an argument: then, beyond all that, I should say this is anyhow not a question to be argued: after my

I took the slip out of my pocket and did so.

I folded the letter and the slip together, put them back in my pocket and looked at W. "Well?"

skin: my skin is free: I perspire freely: I don't know but every day this winter my body has been at

own way—hold by my own views.

He shook his fist at me: "Why so hot, my little man?

"Tell them I am still chained to my rock but that I can still flap my wings: tell them I may not be just

Give my love to Doctor B.

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

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

My God! when will they listen to me for whole and good?

"I wrote Bucke of my fearful inertia: that inertia is my worst failing now: I told him I could not explain

[pencil] And you O my Soul?

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.

entirely to my taste.

It is probably that my state is reaction from the severe work of the winter at Washington.

Told him of my letter to the Chicago News.

He took my hand.

I am a postponer when it comes to making them: I put off my yes, my no, on the slightest pretext: this

"I can't get adjusted to it: the thought of our separation—of my personal helplessness: then my memory

I struggle against my own inner convictions."

My dear Walt,This morning I had occasion to call at the house of a Mr.

But I worked my way through it. He'd say: "Don't give up," laughing.

own personality (things seen through my eyes and what my vision brings)—a book full enough of mosaic

and good: if not then I shall run the risk and keep the sheets in my own hands."

book is of another order: it is the collected statement of my life— of my work: a statement of what

"It probably is a whim—my whimsicality—but so it must be."

Insisted on my taking the nickel for the paper.

This will be my birthday gift to the world, my last, my parting, gift: the world has made many birthday

now, if he does not object, will draw up this check for the half of it: I'm obliged to be cautious: my

I do not like to write this way but I think you ought to know my candid opinion.

My dear Doctor:When I wrote you at Philadelphia I omitted to answer your question as to the existence

W. said: "My silence seemed to astonish her.

who is Clifford's friend has my respect."

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."

He recognized my skepticism.

W. said: "He was my friend—and yours, too, eh? No?

Desired my libretto.

"It's one of my regrets that the Wagner operas have never come my way—that I for my own part have not

—only serves to make my conviction more vehement."

.: "Nor have I: but the 'chaps,' as he calls them, often come and report me so—put words into my mouth

I said: "To my inquiry as to who wrote that fine piece there about you." W.: "Oh yes!

My address is the Daily News office.Truly yours,Francis M.

W. seemed to think my question amusing.

We are back home and I am busy about my farm work.

"It clogs up my head." The temperature had taken a big drop in the night.

Years ago Osgood or Houghton used My Captain in one of their readers: it was a terrible affliction, almost

"Oh my! I never thought I was so subtle!"

"You must try to be patient with my snail-like processes," he said.

["My God! that's true!

Sat so for the greater part of my half-hour's stay—closing the window finally himself.

I showed him where he had put it yesterday after my reading.

till I am interfered with—till my freedom is invaded: and what I offer for the individual—to me as a

W. said: "I am glad to hear you say that: it confirms my own theory: I never lived out my idea: I let

Do you understand my bad English?

how often I have heard that—'my misery! my misery!'—down there in the South!

I must submit to my untoward fate."

When I got over and looked through my pockets for W.'

"I see that—I see its truth: I was quite reckless in my earlier days.

my book and what it stands for—or what they think it stands for.

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.

I have done gone and published my essay The Poet as a Craftsman.

W. added: "That's my question, too: where is the Christian?"

W.: "Fit in a grave, Tom: yes: after I'm dead: that'll be my last and only fit!"

Harned said: "I had no idea, Walt, that you'd give such a ghastly turn to my innocent remark."

W. then: "There you are once more, Mister Skeptic, taking my wisdom to pieces!"

I put in my question again about economics.

"It's getting to be my steady diet," he said. Did not look well or feel well.

"My sluggish blood forces me to appeal to outside fires."

It is all out of my hands now, and I do hope everything will turn out well.

Did you ever read his Story of My Heart? ["No," said W.]

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 had hardly got in, had my greeting, and heard him say, "I am a little eased today at least of my cold

"I am in a very poor way bodily: I can hardly get to the door there: and yet I keep up my hope, my cheer

, I can almost say my buoyancy."

they are my father and my dear mother: the picture of my father is very good: that of my mother is not

Said: "I used to thrust papers, things, into my pockets: always had a lot of reading matter about my

hill, fifty yards from the house, where my books and papers are, and where I spend most of my time.

I have theories of my own."

How considerate, gentle and generous my British friends are!

L. and my New England friends.

world dont mourn forme my beloved sons and daughters farewell my dearbeloved Walter" Sunday, April 7

Asked about the weather: urged me to throw my coat off: altogether most cordial.

He added: "My first doubts are my last. I think the little woman (was it Lucy Larcom?)

Then I would re-examine my premises. Yet each attempt was fruitless."

Changed his cover design at McKay's and my suggestion.

I keep it among my records. Monday, November 26, 1888

He watched me closely as I worked: I was on my knees on the floor: the room was in a sort of half light

"It was my grandfather," he remarked, "who best knew Hicks: they hobnobbed together in their young days

: but my father had met him—known him—also, as he did Thomas Paine: I myself saw Hicks: what is more,

Here he paused an instant, then he said earnestly: "Had I all my faculties now, my literary power, the

Am laid up just now with a kick from my horse—luckily nothing very bad—he struck me (accidentally in

My heart foreboding much, I rang the bell, Mrs.

my boy I have gone far under!

Then: "I have done nothing to-daytoday: for the first time my appetite has positively, wholly, given

I reached down, kissed him: he kissed me, saying thickly: "Bless you, my boy! bless you!"

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

"I mean counted my pulse, questioned me—went through all the technicalities: but—!"

When I said: "Should you ever need a Secretary, let me serve," he fervently responded: "Bless you, my

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

—Was my brother really well & hearty—was Lieut. Sam'l Pooley, 51st N.Y. there, & how was he?

—Do you know whether my brother got letters & boxes we sent him?

With my help went over to his chair, turning up the light, sitting down heavily: legs of little value

The War was on, I was strong in my strength—superb of body—I had much to give: there were thousands,

conviction against it, my contempt for it, grows stronger and stronger."

"I have been singularly fortunate in my doctors," he said: "I often think of Dr.

I spoke of my going to Germantown to hear Brinton lecture. W. inquired: "What will he speak about?"

adverse.Got up heavily, I helping him: stood there with his blue gown on, tall, massive: turned back my

my boy!

I could get about on my feet then: I don't know if I did not head the march."

been in my mind, although I have lost time in sending you an answer to your letter.

And so, having written my article I have drawn back, and don't now return again and again to V.

Once during my stay got up to urinate but could not.

I said something about the birth of the boy at Harned's: my sister's courage and physical sanity and

I told him that my sister had sat up reading Robert Elsmere last night.

It reminded him of a kindred experience: "When I had my great attack—my great paralysis—I was reading

My dear poet: I wrote you from N.

And when I had given him my good report: "How good for her—for Tom—for us!

The man seemed to have caught on to my idea almost before I expressed it: the green ends, the tipping

I said: "My heart warms to him."

monument idea on the whole a good one—that it might mean something in the friendship of nations: all that: my

When my bundle was ready he produced this from the table—pasted it on.

personal affairs—and, as is my habit, made it a sort of combination matter: sent it to Kennedy with

I received Bucke's letter of the 2d to-daytoday, answering my first report of W.'

He pressed my hand gently. "Oh!

My recollection is that I confessed my judgment, and proposed to Mr.

At any rate, he has my admiration for some things he has done—yes, admiration: and my personal love surely

He looked up into my eyes, a wonderful smile on his face as his grasp of my hand tightened: "Yes—I do

, my boy: I know you: I believe you."

My dear mother is living and well; we speak of you.

on Personalism—for both of which attentions you have my thanks.

Spoke of this before he had answered my questions about his health.

"I am not well yet by any means, but then a man in my condition counts little things."

The worst of it is I am very unsteady on my feet and some day shall have a fall—trip."

Sent up by me to my father a picture of Dr. Bucke for him to see.

He had written on the back of it: "My friend Dr. R. M. Bucke came Oct: 15 '88".

Stopped upon my entrance. Talked freely at once. "What news do you bring?"

Then he questioned me about my "day's doings."

He was on to my point. "Well—he was warmer then than he was later on."

I slept in my boat or under it all the time.

Well—Brinton ought to know: with John and with him on my side I am well defended.