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My Montreal venture was a decided success. Mrs.

It was distinctly wrong of W.S.K. to allude in print to my T. letter—just shows that you can not trust

begin at once, no end of meter work which must be done, some pressing family affairs requiring a lot of my

despise the Copperheads, irrespective of who they are, their fame—what-not: but aside from that, all my

My impression of Julian as I met him here at the dinner was a good one—very good."

I wrote of it in my letter to Doctor—that you had such a letter—that it was not to be publicated, at

I also feel sure that he also felt that my home would be with my dear sister Mrs.

don't know who will be my guardian now!

Traubel:Did you not get my letter saying I must be in Cleveland night of Ingersoll—I was there and thought

Sent matter over to Oldach today by express.Spoke again of note for my lecture book.

Then after a pause, "I gave him a copy of my big book—gave away three copies, in fact—one to each of

And as for my own? No, never!

In fact, I am not a demonstrable being, even to my intimate friends.

And to my "yes" he added, "Then you have said truth.

Give her my love, anyway." Saturday, November 7, 1891

Called my attention to the Century. "Morris has a poemet there," he said. Mrs.

W. thought my suggestion a good one. Saturday, November 30, 1889

I described to W. my hunt most of my spare time to-daytoday for the steel plate.

He pushed the paper into my hand.

I must be on my guard: I must take care not to grow helpless before my time."

He placed his hand on mine and looked into my face affectionately.

I have given my oath to the Union.'

is in so I could send for it.If it is as good as "The Evening Breeze" piece I shall begin to think my

To my mind "The E.B." piece is one of the most wonderful he has ever produced—its inner spiritual meaning

Not yet done with my manuscript. "I want to give it still another reading," he said.

I think the old man would see me or my son who saw him before.

Traubel—I saw Whitman because my father could not go, but he will go when he can.

Something decisive will probably appear in a day or two—either a move against Walt or acquiescence in my

As to "Why should my dog inhabit heaven if I?" W. said: "Why not?

I took it out of my pocket. "Read that passage to me again." I did so.

Adams, my last news of your health, and enclosing also a copy of my last circular (summer of 1876) regarding

My wife received lately a letter from Mrs.

I can but repeat my delight in this prospect, were it to be realized, and my wife's hope and my own that

I did not get out of my chair." Said he had had letters "but nothing significant"—even Dr.

"Much to my surprise, I became interested in it—greatly interested.

I gave the sheet to him out of my pocket.

He could not have done worse if he had set out to do everything the opposite of my instructions.

There was one critic who quoted from Wordsworth to prove that my picture was not only not new, but was

"I am all of a jumble today—my stomach, my head."

And laughingly told him my discussion with Burroughs, Burroughs contending that W.'

I informed him, "My idea now is, to start my piece with the autobiographic page and close it with your

description of this room—filling in my own matter for the rest."

Yet I shall do so, for from outward evidence he is worse than he has been.He still urges me about my

I remarked my confidence that the thing would all be done Monday. W. not so confident.

"My neighbor, the grocer at the corner, sends it in.

He says, it is for my old friend, Walt Whitman.

It is now howling & pouring against my window as I write.My heart's best gratitude & love to you for

I know you will pardon my hurrying off.My love to you & yours.I gave R. K.

31 1889Dear Sir:I think I subscribed $5 to the publication of the "Camden Compliment," and I enclose my

W. thought: "From my point of view, aside entirely from what is said on it, the book is a success from

I do not get over my astonishment, however, that this is for us—that I have lived to see it."

Said he had "another red-ink postal from the Epoch person, directing my attention to The Epoch of Nov

My own poem looks well: there is a noble breadth given it there—in the mere printerial aspect of it."

"Yes, I don't know but that now I like it better than my own: I know Bucke don't—know you don't."

quality, which comes uppermost—most forces itself upon my attention.

Remarked: "My friend Julius Chambers, I see, has gone on The World."

"there have been ten or twelve sent to me for my signature."

I looked over my shoulder at the door of the adjoining room. "Ned Wilkins!

Gave me a copy of the Lear for Aggie, who projected having a big charcoal copy made by my father.

My advice would be in the words of Punch in its picture—the little word of four letters, printed as big

this earth, head-up, sorto"'—and he laughingly spelled "sorto" saying—"It is a word I often use—one of my

In the Shakespeare matter, my sympathies are with the fellows who are disturbed, chaotic, off rudderless

But for my part I go with the sinners who are not so damned sure—who do not feel willing to swear we

And as for a message, "Give him my dearest love. Tell him we think he has scored a great triumph.

Likewise a letter from Johnston (N.Y.), "quite a long one for John," which he felt should go among my

Whitman:I talked last night to my Waltham class (of forty ladies) about your work and read to them.

I always advise my pupils so.

I always found myself saying that in spite of my reservations.

faith, my sympathy, all leans to the one side."

I picked a sheet of paper up from under my feet. It was written over in W.'s handwriting.

Appeared to have been reading it; spoke of it immediately upon my entrance after our shaking hands.

more than once, and will have doubtless other expenses—but I want to make it all good.We all keep well—My

you are both gone.No letter from Walt today.Good luck to youRM BuckeW. said, after I had expressed my

My dear Traubel:Your very kind and very welcome letter from London, Ontario, came duly to hand.

Whenever in New York, do me the favor to call to see me, not only at the office here, but at my cosy

And I renew my original proposal—that just as soon as you can fix the date, you come & spend the Sunday

with me, not to be my guest only, while here, but I am to pay all of the cost of the journey.

You come on my business, & at my request, & indeed we won't get on without the conference.

I hope that you can arrange to come while my sister Mrs.

I sent it.Now I must say good by.And don't fail to note my meaning.

She must have made a guess on my size and guessed wrong."

He throws nothing in my way, but he does nothing to welcome me.

W. called my attention to some newspaper criticisms of his books.

But my feet are eternally gone." I happened to say to W.: "I will be honest.

My dear Mr.

Called my attention to several matters, and as I sat down and read he pored over the papers—patiently

him what I had heard, but that as he was flitting all along the road I should be compelled to take my

If it has come into use, it has come lately—for in my time there was no exaggerated emphasis.

Adding after my assent: "That is my conviction too. Here was Leaves of Grass in gestation.

"It is better," he said to my assurance, "better beyond a doubt.

The time has not yet come for me to bear my testimony to Walt Whitman.

At the door he turned to me—"Where are my wild flowers, Horace?"

On the way to the door again, Ingersoll put his hand on my shoulder.

I cannot see without my glasses."

My efforts had all been to get the diners there—all else admirably took care of itself.

I must take care"—whispering—"that my shirt tail don't hang out."

father's, the ultimate for my mother, and I am to be between."

And I am Consuelo—determined to keep my head up, whatever betide."

I wish I could be with you in person, but my spirit must do instead.Please convey my affectionate greetings

My particular congratulations to you on your marriage.

Curious when he learned I was on my way to Philadelphia to hear Von Bulow play.

"Yes—they are my fool lines. I was giving Hotten some advice and tried to illustrate it.

I was only trying to give him an idea how I seemed to myself in my own eyes."

You are the victim of a disease I should not encourage—but then we've agreed to work together—you're my

I should like to know who wrote the piece in the Morning Star—it flushed my friends and myself too, like

Once he got to the house while I was out—went straight to the kitchen where my dear mother was baking

When my friends gather from all parts in my honor, it would be a cruel, an inexcusable, slight, for me

were alone, that even the coming in any shape "might be clouded over" if there happened Friday "one of my

Kennedy's postal was that spoken of last evening (as follows) and touched also upon my invitation for

or eight of us—we were there together—in the back room—I at the head—took that big wine bottle from my

If God gave me my choice of the whole planet or my little farm, I should certainly take my farm.Mr.

And further: "I have wanted for a long time to say something to this effect of the Queen to bear my testimony

She said (to my question) she could not tell me who "The Lounger" was in the Critic, nor who had written

I take it, this dinner is a good deal like my Lincoln lecture, which I did not write because I thought

I reached forth my hand and literally, by a great effort, lifted him. What was new?

Yes, it is audacious—that's my word—and I have a curious story to tell you about that.

She was the screamer, moaner, who had alarmed me on my entrance some days ago and of whom Mrs.

—exactly my word!" Further, "This is an artist's picture—an artist's picture in the best sense.

My name has no place there—it is not my book—I have nothing to do with it.

From today's Press as a queer result of my interception of the reporter last evening: SUN PICTURE OF

sketch or poem, all of which are hurried off to the publishers of his forthcoming book, called "Good-by, my

history—passes through camps, enters the hospitals—using gifts of penetration (Horace, they told me my

And I want you to take this with you—assert it anywhere for me—make it felt as my message, declaration

And as I said my good-bye, he picked up Truth—waved his hand as I went out the door—and turned towards

"It should be printed before my birthday, on the 31st.

why Walsh did not print it: I have always considered him friendly to me: yes, friendly: he surely is my

"From books I have read about him—from my talks with him, with his friends—I do not consider that Emerson

"My sort, sort of!" To which W. replied: "Hardly—your sort of preacher is no preacher at all.

I told him Doctor thought he [W.] ought to write something for my paper.

After this, I shall not aspire to write anything—to assume that anybody wants my handiwork.

"You should take my copy—it is on the other side of the table there." I found it.

a portrait—the Lear—for Jacob Lychenheim: promised him many months ago—but forgotten till today, on my

Nor had the check-book turned up yet—I should bring him a National State Bank check from my father.

My inquiries in Philadelphia had developed that it would be impossible for me to go to any public place

Speaking of "Leaves of Grass" he said, "My 'Leaves' mean, that in the end reason, the individual, should

Any one of you fellows knows more about my book than I do myself.

most of them—and then go off and picture me as standing out in the middle of the room and spouting my

That word, they said, was out of place, not my word, inconsistent with my philosophy.

My enemies would even dispute my knowledge of the English." W. talked of "Shakespeare worship."

No magnificent cathedral could quite so well have rounded up my simple picture.

"This," he said to me, "is one of my weaknesses: a weakness of long standing."

paper in view—only to relieve my fullness."

Remarked: "I see from my post at the window that it is so—that the bustle is being discarded.

And he added: "It was towards evening—I had already had my dinner. Oh! the day was grand!

My good wishes with you!" Saturday, May 11, 1889

"I cannot find my loose checks." Gave him memoranda about Queen Victoria's birthday.

knew somewhat of him, then of his interest in the Single Tax—adding—"and that to this day goes beyond my

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?

And the words are as strong, I put them there in my note-book—have kept them all these years.

To which W.: "That is even more significant—of vast moment in the making up of my own mind."

Yet, "I shall try my second powder first. I took the other the night you brought it.

W. much interested in my letter from Mrs. O'Connor: 112 M St. NWMarch 5, 1891.Dear Mr.

But that again is an evidence in my favor, for these men who grow unconsciously get mad as hyenas to

W. was intensely attracted by my description of a mail car.

Said, "One thing I have always wanted to do—trace the passage of one of my letters to Dr.

this letter from Gilder: Editorial DepartmentThe Century MagazineUnion Square, New YorkMarch 3rd, 1892.My

My best love to Walt.Yours sincerely,R. W. Gilder Thought best to wait—not refer to W. just now.

My work great—from early morning to midnight—putting correspondence in all the odd moments of all the

and with my "oh yes!" I was instantly at the bed and grasped his reaching hand.

Heine, "The moon is up and shining," and he continued, "In the old days it was such an hour I took for my

"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!

placing his hand at the opening of his shirt—"but worst of all, in the head and at night: it disturbs my

remove from the head—who is friendly (just as I have on the Weekly), but the men at the top are not my

It seems I had not told him of the hanging of my father's watercolor of W. at the Watercolor Exhibition

He left it in my hands, he said. Saturday, March 28, 1891

"Yes, dreadfully—all over—wipe my face, please," adding the "please" after she had commenced.

It struck my heart, yet it was the hourly fear at last fulfilled.

Over my head the little bell.

I laid his hand quietly down—something in my heart seemed to snap and that moment commenced my new life—a

And I found my mother and father and Tillie still at supper and they were shocked at my news, yet could

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

hardly think Joe would have invited it—perhaps Jennie's own—but hardly: I thought, Kennedy"—but to my

Hoped to get out within a few days and to see my father's picture, now in Newmayer's window, framed.

"I have lately come across a son of Newmayer—a young son—met him several times—once on a jaunt in my

Scrawled my name on a postal I had with me and insisted that he take it upstairs, which he did, Miss

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!"

My mail contains letter from Bucke, 17th, which anticipates an early end for W.: 17 March 1892My dear

"So you did—he is in the next room"—at which she called my name and I responded.

He repeated the sentence after me, "Will give me 25 books—five for my own use, 20 for my friends?

Wd. you give him my love & reverence, if manageable.At the crisis of his recent illness I was of course

And again, "On my right side I choke. One way or another I suffer all the time."

"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.

My father was down to sketch the chair today for Mrs. Fels' picture. W.