Search Results

"I do not think any trace of such a thing is to be found in me—in my book—in Leaves of Grass: I know

it has never animated me—put me by a straw's measure to right, to left: altered my career, life, work

verified—there is no mystery there to clear up: that is all thorough, authentic—substantially from my

My dear Traubel: The lecture referred to by Bush is simply an address that the Colonel gave before a

Adding, with his finger up, "And this time my shorthand man: don't forget!"

And to my "yes," consented.

TraubelI am almost glad of my delay in sending you my cheque, since it has given me the opportunity to

Pray excuse a hurried note; my profound love to Walt; my love also to your wife & youElisabeth Fairchild

He had my list—over 50—the main body foreign.

I had the first proof of the poems in my pocket—gave to him.

I may not be able to read them before evening—evening is my best time: from eleven to five are my worst

Wishes my father to see them. Shall forward to Bucke.

One of my deep joys is to see my own thought well expressed by another, hence I am grateful to you for

As luck would have it, W. rang shortly after my arrival and we went into the room together.

Still harping on my daughter. Spoke of the News piece again.

"Hardly: sermons are hardly my specialty."

These are all that have reached my hands up to date: there may possibly be something besides in the hands

The last person on the list, R.B.C., is Earl Russell: he writes me: "I do not wish my name to be published

My stay brief. Expressed his liking for the Dutch piece "as it shows up in the paper."

Take it to your mother—give it to her—it is from me, my love goes with it," etc.

W.: "That is just my question, but you have Chadwick—he can't answer you—that is enough."

In my mail, which I sat down and read, was this letter from Baker: Law Office, Robert G.

Ingersoll45 Wall StreetNew York, Feby 19.th 1892 My dear Traubel:How is the dear, good and great one?

Those lines, beautiful, true, horrible, stick in my memory. I would not forget them if I could.

reading an account of it: and of Mars and Jupiter and Venus: I never used to miss them: often spend my

I would sometimes try my eyes on the most distant visible stars—the familiar stars."

outdoors: that's the worst aspect of my confinement."

W. asked him to "give my love" to Mrs.

then I've a good man on my side, haven't I?" Picked up the Bucke portrait again.

W. said about himself: "I still have trouble with my head but it is no worse."

W. said: "But my point of view is also O'Connor's—or, rather, his is mine."

Clifford wrote today: "My love to Walt. 'Dear Walt Whitman!'

A bandaged hand prevents my writing, and everything is in arrears with me.W.S.K.'

As soon as I get the free use of my hand, I will write to him, as you suggest.

"It helped me on my feet." Gave me letter, "I had it from Bucke today"—and another—an old one.

His mail like my own—scarce. I had no letter concerning W.'

Described to him my talk with Arthur and its result.

Our talk pretty brief though I was there with him for some time—he holding my hand, I his.

Upon my rising to leave, he finally suggested, "Make your contract with Arthur just as if it was for

yourself—I could not make my own ideas clearer by telling you more."

W. reading the Century—and after cordially extending his own and grasping my hand—spoke freely of the

On the other hand the Emerson picture—much spoken of—is a failure—at least, that would be my opinion.

"My first impression was that the Republican position was right—but since I have seen various signs of

I am not inclined to change from my old position.

"I have always had a suspicion they were not related, but my suspicion never rose to a certainty."

Eats now, sleep— "have my very bad hours, of course"—but on the whole is "out of danger."

Again: "Beecher once said to me: 'I thank my good fortune that nature almost from the first possessed

but if I had the path to go over again—knowing what I know now—I should put that among the first of my

I said: "That 'sThat's my idea for Leaves of Grass—that 'sthat's the book I mean."

I shall keep my eyes wide open; and the volume with O'C.'

I had in my hands a package of his circulars, from Ferguson. "What's that?" he asked.

And on my rendering over, said: "It looks well—and on good paper, too!"—so was quite satisfied.

With my bundle and Bush (Bush having brought bundle to office) we hastened the several doors to Ingersoll's

My ire was stirred. Give him my name! He will see nobody! Give him my name—Traubel! He is busy.

Take my name to him—yes—you must—he will see me.

And to complete the fall, Baker at this instant entered from the hall, came eagerly forward, grasped my

"Give my love to the old man. But never mind—I shall see you again!"

s room with a big bundle under my arm. Ten of the books ready—had got them from Oldach.

W. exclaimed, seeing me enter loaded, "Here is my book at last! Into harbor at the end of day!

things to say further of George Eliot and George Sand, W. remarked, "If it did not seem like treason to my

Leaves of Grass—or most of us—and it keeps just the same as ever or improves, like good wine.Give my

It would have proved me a fool—a fool in my old age, after the war and the toil and the saving.

I have made up my opinion from our frequent talks: it seems to explain and justify you fully."

I had read the paper on Poe on my way over in the morning. I was very vehemently against S.'

I said: "I alluded to Stoddard in my letter to Doctor this morning." W.: "Did you?

I feel that my work is to carry on what you have begun.

You have opened the way: my only desire is to go onward with it.

It is very kind of you to say you would like to see my translation and that Walt Whitman himself would

s on my way home. Found him very comfortable—looking well—reporting himself so-so.

And I was willing for that to let all my profit go—and more if it was necessary."

gesturing with great energy and saying to me—"I wish I really could repeat the lines—they are noble—have my

I had a fall last evening and dislocated my left shoulder (it was the right arm last time, three months

Bucke says, "I confess my opinion of Mrs. Davis is entirely changed in the last 48 hours."

W. called Warrie quite often for the water, at one time saying, "Lift my head a little higher, boy,"

and again, "Put my leg in the bed, Warrie"—the leg hanging out and he unable to withdraw it.

I had never had him break loose so about my work.

He wrote my name on it. "That dismisses it for good."

Often I would read my proofs at the hotel.

W. gave me my personal copy—the complete W. W.—to-nighttonight.

I left it at the house this morning on my way to Philadelphia.

This piece of Stoddard's amounts to nothing at all—I could write more myself, though my knowledge of

Davis, and when she asks him how he is, he replies curiously—'still doing my old business—still making

And W. then laughing: "I am still at my own business—still making baskets and baskets."

had been much better today—and after I had entered his room and he had offered his big hand—clasped my

I raised my eyes—was it his sister? Something to outwit this scoundrel in Burlington?

This simply crossed my mind—I made no mention of it.

I was on my way to Thomas concert tonight. Campanini to sing.

It is loyal, generous, correct, and true, and doesn't labor to prove that "My Captain" is the best of

Darkness thickens—my heart trembles on its throne—the end not unprobably near.To my mother's house a

few minutes (this my birthday—a solemn birthday—my mother giving me with tender hand an old cherished

with a louder voice than love in this modern world—and with so many sick and sad I cannot think of my

These are my warm Christmas wishes for Walt and you and me and all people.Very cordially yrsElisabeth

Tenn. was the bright particular star of my youth and early manhood—is a man who makes this dull earth

My first glimpse of him by sunlight this week. Face pale, eyes bad—a generally haggard aspect.

W. again: "I for my part accept the cheap cover just as it is: it has a meaning."

My dear Mr.

have read was a mere newspaper exaggeration, and in sending you this wish I send the assurances of my

Shall let my Rossetti questions hold over.

With W. nearly an hour—though on my first coming he spoke of "the bad day" he had had, "a weary congregation

Will send you $5 the first of every month.Inclosed find $10, which please hand to Walt with my love,

I am very very busy and cannot say more tonight.Sincerely yoursJ H Johnston Will you destroy my letter

W. said, "I sent them copies of my leather-covered book: did they get them?"

That has often been on my mind."

constituted Ralph Moore with power to watch the constructive details, he assumed the power to set me my

In my postal card reply to you I suggested the following Friday at this office, and not hearing from

My own counsel would be, don't tone down or up: let go—give way to the spirit—it must come up right in

He has not seen my manuscript. Wonders if I can let him have a glimpse of the proof?

My question would be, where is the poetry anyway? I do not see it—not a glimpse of it.

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.

Then he took up paper again and read the sentence—"To my notion 'The Kreutzer Sonata,' without for a

my friends, we must not forget that a little license is the very salt of liberty!'

Would he object to my making public statement of the new addition to "Leaves of Grass"?

"They are poems—that is one of my purposes: to show the universal beat of the poetic.

How clearly I remember my anxiety—to get terms straight, to express the technicality of the trade, then

W. protests, "I am very weak—seem to lose my ambition.

On his bed "often and often," for "it is my only thorough relief."

As to leaving this place just now—it is impossible—out of the question: my legs would not take me if

If I went off somewhere into more complaisant surroundings—had servants at my beck, the best of food,

I might be tempted some——I could not be tempted enough to go—my decision would be finally reverse."

"I like to get all my relations with people personal, human.

Whitman.Some days ago came my parcel—many thanks—Mr. Grosairt's books included. That for Mr.

One piece on my 71st year—a proof came of it today—it probably will go into the November number—only

He had called my attention to the Inness picture several days ago—asked me—"What do you think of that

Referred again to the Gutekunst picture and to my copy of it.

—that in my old days, I more and more make morality so called take a back seat—relegate it—subordinate

on margin how many copies he wished if any, and have paper downstairs, so I could get in morning on my

That is my habit—they call it my procrastination—it has always been my habit.

And while my friends always declare that I have lost much by it—my best opportunities, even—I feel for

If you had followed my original notion—which has not been my notion since—and had got it out at once,

"That is my price to Dave, and this man shall have the like favor."

I have met him—years ago, in Brooklyn—perhaps several times—and my impression of him then was what it

love—royal in his ways, offerings—as if he was always addressing you—take this pearl, take this gem, take my

horse and carriage—use them—take house, lands—take, take—my best linen, the whole entourage is yours—take

He endorsed my set of plate-proofs as follows: First proof-sheets of November Boughs—to my friend Horace

But what mystifies me about it is, where the devil he got my sitting, my superscription, and when the

If you like, and I can put my hands on them, the letters may be transferred to your collection.

words, Whitman [or Walt Whitman or Walt]—mark my words, put them down: I want to say them now because

W. was lying down on my arrival but got up at once and hobbled to the chair, asking me what I had to

I left with him proof of his "autobiographic note," which he promised to send up to my house tomorrow

I said: "Let Ed get it of my mother when he goes up to the house"—to which—"That's so—that will do—though

I was so drawn to them—they seemed so significant—I took my scissors—cut them out—and shall try to keep

them, if I can—if they don't get mislaid and buried, like so much of my material.

me pick it up inquisitively, he remarked: "It was a young fellow I met up there at the time I paid my

It confirms my own observation. And there is Kossuth, too—living still—nearly 90!

But as you say—using my old story—I suppose the whole secret is that there is no secret—that he is natural—that

I give this as my counsel, only—for you to chew on and do with what you think best.

It would be inconsistent with me, with my work, to plant guns, to threaten, to exact, to believe, even

"I have had my second bath today," he explained, "and that may in part account for my good condition.

my trump card—the abiding thing of all, and it is that I wish to point out.

That is one of the fruits of my receiving you downstairs instead of here yesterday afternoon.

"You know all about Eddy, my brother there. We put him there at the start because of Mrs.

"Very little—I could not say, nothing, but then my memory is such a devilish queer factor in my economy

I quoted my observation made in a discussion about W.

I am, everywhere in my talking and writing, making your claims felt and shall continue to do so.

W. exclaimed, breaking in: "Read it again: I want to get it clear in my noddle for keeps!"]

I hope to be able please you with my treatment of your great work.

That country out there is my own country though I have mainly had to view it from afar.

Still we talked about constituency, and to my various remarks he rejoined: "There may be—there may be

am here—that I am listened to at all—as the boys said, when I was young there in New York, have got my

My appetite keeps at a high grade, probably three-quarters of the time, for about one-quarter it flunks

Told him I had read "An Old Man's Rejoinder" in Critic on my way over.

Perhaps your feeling is a little mixed with what you know of my criticism from the talks here."

It would be my argument still.

And this may account for my article; having these things in me, they were bound to come out."

Therein: "Walt Whitman's note on his new book, 'Good-Bye My Fancy,' though it but fills half a page,

You know its history—that it came into my mind to write when I understood from you that Joe intended

He wanted my name over it. He is an inveigling cuss, anyhow—so good, too.

My main complaint of it is, that it is vague, misty, that it effects no end—hits nothing, so far as I

Whitman's Tribute to Lowell — The Good Gray Poet Speaks Feelingly of the Dead Poet's Fame": Let me send my

experiment: I would no more force my reading than my writing.

there are points here which I have not considered—which are not quite familiar table-talk to me—but my

first impression, my original instinct, (I can only give that) is adverse, critical, though not, of

have known so many yet so few—so few with the full equipment—one or two (not more than two) in all my

I said to W.: "I've still got the Rossetti letter in my pocket."

Called my attention to the package he had laid out and addressed to my old man friend.

Give them to him with my love." Package very liberal—magazines, etc.

s antagonism of some of my own notions which seem in line with his teachings and should, one would think

Warrie came in for tray, and W. said, "Tell Mary I tried my best to make away with the whole thing, but

There was my column and a half.

of the letters I gave you last night he says—it is dated the 22nd—'I will now take up the thread of my

That is the question that always comes first in my mind when I look at pictures of Walt Whitman!

He looked at me and seemed to see some distrust in my face. "You think I am condemning Lathrop?

I love him—honor him: if there's anything comes short it excites my regret: I judge no one."

My dear Mr. Burroughs,I have just finished your book on Birds and Poets.

accumulating thunder in my own way.

I get my hands loose now and then, and feel that I have done a little something.

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