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Sir Today I was coming to Camden full of hope that I might see you but I have not enough money to pay my
Yes—you are good—may I come to see you when my ship returns in about a month?
I hope— Will you accept my "Minutiæ." Will you— if you are able —write to me.
ONTARIO London, Ont., 17 Sept 188 8 Your letter of 10th with enclosures came during my absence in Sarnia
As soon as you know the publisher's name & city tell me then I can tell my English bookseller to look
Camden NJ—US America Sept: 13 '88 Still kept in my sick room & the summer season is ab't over.
My little 140 page November Boughs & the big 900 page Vol. Complete are nearly done.
Whitman's housekeeper, took care of both Harry and Warren after the death of their father, the sea captain
I am still kept in my sick room, (but no worse)—My book printing goes on smoothly—My "Notes," such as
they are, on E[lias] H[icks] among the rest—the bunch of golden rods on my table as I write— Walt Whitman
letter came in the noon mail & I will write a few lines—Glad to hear little Susie is well & send her my
bring the chicken for me—it will be acceptable—Herbert was here this forenoon but did not come up to my
(painting most likely) on the carpet—at any rate I tho't he looks hearty & well—I am still kept in my
I almost doubt if I ever will—weakness extreme—I have sold the mare & phæton—I sold her for a song—my
and one big 900 Vol. to contain all my works—you shall have them, when ready—Harry too—I send my love
Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to
. & C.W. from you before a very great while—I shall look upon them as the crown and summit of all my
me—raw, wet, cloudy weather here—H Gilchrist came this forenoon to inquire, but did not come up to my
kitchen girl, giving out some bread & meat to the tramp at the gate the other day)—The strength of my
I don't see much prospect of my book on you seeing the light soon" (Feinberg; Horace Traubel, With Walt
summer—the serious attack warded off again—but extreme weakness of legs and body remaining—Keeping me in my
sick room so far—yet my usual mentality & good heart continued— My little new 140 page $1.25 booklet
I am to have all my books printed & bound in one large 900 page Vol. too, ("Walt Whitman Complete") soon
ready—I am sitting in my room writing this, body almost paralyzed— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to Karl
poems & prose pieces bit by bit, stealhily stealthily to-day, having the book (disguised by cover) in my
I have begun my Annual Report am going to make it pretty long this year—shall put in a lot about alcohol—results
I shall be kept here pretty steady I guess until I get the Report off my hands, a month from now, after
I fancy Herbert Gilchrist must be with you by this time—give him my kind regards and tell him I hope
Yesterday was my wedding day—we are 23 years married —getting to be quite old folk!
ab't enough for some bills needing payment —O now I feel relieved— Nothing particularly different in my
November Boughs (1888) and Complete Poems & Prose: "I shall look upon them as the crown and summit of all my
It is that part of my endeavor which has caused the harshest criticism and prevented candid examination
Still I have gone on adding, building up, persevering, so far as I am able to do, in my original intention
"I am not embittered by my lack of success.
My last volume is in response to the interest of my friends abroad."
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
(my book). Glad to hear of yr your new books. Am still reading proof.
WS Kennedy I don't see much prospect of my work on you seeing the light soon, But—.
No 109 North Carolina Av Atlantic City September 3d 1888 My Dear Mr Whitman Frank and I read your "Old
I think you will be interested to know that my cousin, of whom I have made mention to you as being intimate
77 West Brookline Boston Sept 3 1888 My dear loved Poet I greet you with open arms and kiss you lovingly
the three as it gives me your full face—and so good I am going to paint you in oil and in pastel and my
the house where you were born and I hope I may have you as you are in your home at Camden—sometime—my
Yesterday & to-day I am perceptibly better—Cooler & signs of September—Still adhere to my 2d story room
moment—I have somewhere a printed slip of "Old Age's Lambent Peaks" & will yet send it—but I cannot lay my
hand on it this moment—a cloudy rather pleasant day, almost cool—quiet—I reiterate the offer of my mare
Sunday Evng Sept: 2 '88 Your good letter just rec'd & here I am sending word back—still imprisoned in my
sick room—non-rehabilitated yet but middling well for all that—my booklet November Boughs ab't finish'd
—& a large vol. comprising all my stuff begun —I am here just at sunset—Love to you all old & young—I
little "Old Age's Lambent Peaks" appears in the just out Century —Maurice, I should like you to have my
I am still imprison'd in my sick room, yet sitting up & reading & writing & (in limits) talking & being
worst no prospect of real improvement—I mean in any body or leg strength, wh' is very low indeed—but my
—and at same time a big Vol. (900 pages) comprehending all my stuff—verses & prose—bound in one—Shall
Dublin Aug 31. 1888 My dear W.
August 31, 1888 My dear Walt: I got your letter of the 6th, a postal card of the 11th, divers newspapers
I have had it on my mind for a month to write, but have had a bad time.
My hope and heart are high for you. If the weather will only let up! Good bye.
thanks—Tho' I don't get worse again I don't improve in strength, vim, &c at all & hardly anticipate—My
Nov: Boughs will be finished—& I shall have a big Vol. of all my stuff one Vol. — Walt Whitman Walt
They have made my summer glorious. My love of that man is something strong as fate.
Indeed I believe the ties of blood draw me to him & Scotland—my "forbears" being Scotch-Irish (on one
If you would tell Horace to write me your decision on each of these points you would relieve my mind
.— I have been thinking over the "Riddle Song" and have made up my mind that the answer is "Good Cause
My dear Friend, I send you this comprehensive brevity to tell you how glad I am that you are regaining
Belmont My Dear Walter (as poor Emerson wd would say) I some weeks ago devised a cunning scheme for getting
I took up the idea & having my time at my disposal, I am going to work you up a lecture.
Do you think you will be able to come by that time, my dear friend?
I have never heard you either read or lecture & shall be a thousand times repaid for my trouble. aff—
"Last of Ebb" is my favorite. William Sloane Kennedy to Walt Whitman, 28 August 1888
know what she would do, forced to quit her nice home: but such things will occur, and then it is, at my
My Sister Mrs Coll sends me a little money at times, which buys a load of wood and some groceries.
"I call it my war paralysis," said the poet.
Kittermaster (a lawyer, nephew of Mrs Bucke's & good friend of mine) and one of my little boys drove
or at one side or other of the road—a good team, free travelers—altogether a grand day—today up to my
My Complete Works , ab't 900 pp Vol: will be put to press nearly contemporaneously with the Nov.
recover strength or personal activity or any thing of that sort, the least particle—I have not left my
I send my love to you RM Bucke See notes Aug. 27, 1888.
I am, my dear friend, Affectionately yours RM Bucke Richard Maurice Bucke to Walt Whitman, 24 August
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 Wednesday Evn'g Aug: 22 '88 Am still keeping my room—Sunny & cool day very fine—the booklet slowly
My dear Mr.
much stronger than when last I felt its generous touch, that token is alone enough to gladden this my
perhaps other illustrations (why not use the phototypes of your father & mother that Gutekunst got up for my
Your friend RM Bucke Gables Here is a Bucke letter which you may stick into the proper place of my vol
piece—I shall write more at length another day, am rather crowded this morning I think I shall remodel my
is always welcome—John's good letter was rec'd this forenoon & is cheery & hospitable as always—Yes my
—I may come to New York & see you all—We will see how the cat jumps—I still remain in my sick room—tho
—This week so far the temperature has been just right here—My little booklet November Boughs is ab't
disjointed paper on "Elias Hicks" —the publication will be delayed yet a number of weeks—I am sitting up in my
Camden Aug: 14 '88 Sunny & cool to-day—nothing new in my case—bowel action—my lines on Sheridan's burial
were printed in Herald Aug: 12—(I am beginning to keep my bits & contributions, poetic spurts &c. again
out still undecided—not before than October anyhow—I still have the design of making a 900 page Vol. my
1888] I am about the same—Strangely somehow I don't get any more power in my body or legs—I feel pretty
as before—I have not left the room up stairs yet (now nine weeks)—the Doctor thinks it not best yet— My
all, & thought it best to hurry it done right off—But at present I am much as of late years, except my
few lines from Jeff (in St Louis)—I am now sitting in the big chair—Spend most of the day here—had my
Reprinted as "Interpolation Sounds" in Good-Bye My Fancy (1891).
When reprinted in "Good-Bye My Fancy," the poem included the note, "General Sheridan was buried at the
Camden Sunday Evn'g Aug: 12 '88 Nothing very new or different—I am still in my sick room—Sit up most
arrangements and returned and told him all about it which pleased him very much, he put his arms around my
another room and when it got close to the wall an oven door opened and in went the rod and pan with my
friend vanishing away like a snow flake before my eyes. that thought then as well as now crowded into
These are part of what thoughts were crowding in my brain as I stood watching for one hour till my friend
Cooper vanished away before my eyes. so I felt I must tell you that there is a new Crematory built in
is and has been warm even here but not disagreeably so—you will recollect that I have proofs to 117 —my
A thousand thanks my dear Walt Whitman for all you have written, I shall always be your debtor.
Monday PM Aug: 6 '88 Hot & sweltering weather here now the sixth day—No good news to send you ab't my
—sitting up —but have not left my room— Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to William D.