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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.
the check matter had turned out and he at once answered: "They report against me in the bank: it was my
believed that the check came, was endorsed, banked, never acknowledged—since then totally wiped out of my
I hardly know myself: I know I get my pay for it, and that is the chief thing as matters go now!"
, W. retorting: "Never mind, the expression on my face atones for all that is lacking in his.
hands—some of the funds of the department at my disposal—urging me to investigate, report.
I loafe, and invite my soul; I lean and loafe at my ease— Observing a spear of Summer grass."
I know that the hand of God is the elderhand of my own, And I know that the spirit of God is the eldest
brother of my own, And that all the men ever born are also my brothers…and the women my sisters and
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
is as big to me as any, Logic and sermons never convince, The damp of the night drives deeper into my
I laid my hat down. We shook hands.
I showed him the title page my father had drawn. He looked at it quietly—was greatly interested.
In this case the wives were on my side. Alma, the present Mrs.
That's the way of some of my friends." Kirk had written of Charles the Bold?
My dear Walt—I most cheerfully write the note that you request to Gen.
: at least, in forenoon and part of the afternoon: but "gathered together again" later on: "made up my
My answer to it has crossed the letter enclosing yours.
He then said: "Well, it is sweet—it is helpful to my soul—to hear that from you: it is the best thing
For my own part, I cannot explain my faith in the book: my satisfaction, if I may say so, is intuitive—not
When he spoke to me I may have nodded my head: when people advise me I have a way of saying 'yes, yes
I do not press my finger across my mouth, I keep as delicate around the bowels as around the head and
Amelioration is my lesson, he says with calm voice, and progress is my lesson and the lesson of all things
I am the teacher of athletes, He that by me spreads a wider breast than my own proves the width of my
own, He most honors my style who learns under it to destroy the teacher.
What is commonest and cheapest and nearest and easiest is Me, Me going in for my chances, spending for
Ken recommended that in preparation for my work I read the chapter of Guidelines for Electronic Text
imagining "gentle" to mean gradual and pleasant, as in "a gentle slope," so I pictured myself easing my
Though I found the "gentle introduction" daunting and more often blunt than gentle, by working my way
My experiences since those first days have only reinforced my initial impressions; as I've worked at
Perhaps a portion of my frustrations (and also insights) are the result of Ken's somewhat fortuitous
W. saw a copy of Unity in my hand. "What have you got there?"
I spoke of the absence of sun from this room—my regret that it was so.
He feels so well just now, he accepts my confidence.
And he added, "my sister-in-law was here today.
W. then: "Well—Baptist: it is the same thing for my purposes.
My position in reference to the case, as having been consulted in it in my private professional capacity
Attorney for the District of Georgia, by my predecessor, directing him to dismiss all suits and proceedings
undetermined, under the Acts mentioned, I see no reason to doubt that they are embraced by the instructions of my
Senate Sir: In answer to your letter of the 20th inst. requesting my opinion upon the question whether
have the honor to say that the law prescribing the duties of the Attorney General, as expounded by my
ago covered into the Treasury, under subsequent legislation—and is now, therefore, entirely beyond my
see pp. 718 734 ante legality of the claim, (as I am not, however strongly it may address itself to my
92My dear Traubel,I am sorry that I could not be with you and the other friends again this evening: My
wife was quite miserable when I returned from my engagement and I felt I could not leave her.
s again on my way home.
"I know a place there—the Aldine Cottage: several of my nieces stayed there a season: it is good—I know
Aug 20, 1875 Aug 16 th 1875 Dear Uncle Walt I received your Postal Card. but I was away to work when my
will say that we are well as common I am going to California in November if the Lord will permit that my
. & I will bring out my book on you sometime , perhaps sooner than we any of us know. I wrote fr.
London Canada, to Fred k Wilson, peremptorily ordering him to return my MS to me.
John Burroughs to–day— Mother dear, as soon as I hear from you, I will write more particular about my
Mother, I shall probably send the order in my next.
friends so closely, that your health & strength becomes part of theirs— I send you the Academy with my
I closed my review with a wish that you might try a voyage across the Atlantic.
August 29 . 75 My dear son, Your letter came all right last Monday, & the papers.
needn't mind the other Sunday papers—I send you Harper's magazine for September—I am still holding my
book sent March 24 Swanpool Falmouth Cornwall England— March•9•1891• Dear Sir My friend Mr Gleeson White
, (who called on you in November), I think mentioned my name to you as one fond of reading your books
My dear Mr.
year the weather being really too hot in the middle of the day I will not make this letter any longer my
My best respects to Mr and Mrs.
Currie — My love to you Walt Whitman Walt Whitman to Edward Whitman, 28 November 1890
movement yesterday—Horace here evn'g—Stoddart will publish the report with some short cutting—Made my
omnibus driver NY chum—F'm 25 to 45 I c'd hop on & get up front a stage while going a good trot—also put my
Walt Whitman Your "Leaves of Grass," has just been placed in my hands.
things, say so; if not, let it " werk " as the little boy said, but I warn you that, Sans-Culottism to my
June 28th [1864] Dear Walt It was my purpose to write to you while home, but ill health prevented me
from fulfilling half my plans.
Whitman papers sent July 25 I thank you heartily for my share in your Custer poem, which I have just
My address is now 506 Euclid Avenue, Cleveland, Ohio, and I would be very much obliged if you would spend
Camden Saturday Afternoon July 21 '88 Rather easier to-day—am writing a little & at my proofs (the little
new book "Nov: Boughs" )—have just rec'd three letters, one from my English friend Ernest Rhys, friend
London Feb 10—84 Dr Dear Old Friend: Am quite well with the exception of the abcess on my neck, it has
Most of my friends appear to have forgotten me or think me of too little importance to drop a line.
burr-r-r over the Delaware—the sun is pouring down almost hotly out (O that I could be out & move in it) & my
in W[ashington] may-be unconscious,—may-be passing from life—meanwhile—thought o'ertoppling all else—my
29 '90 Nothing very new—Am pretty well but have the grip again & sore throat & swell'd head—but ate my
you one of these times soon—have just heard from Dr B[ucke], all well—I am sitting here as usual in my
—I am middling well—the trouble in my eyesight (& very annoying it was to my anchor'd condition) seems
new with me—a dark sulky day outside, cold yet not quite cold enough to freeze—no visitors—have had my
thro' a snow storm) just before sunset—So you see I do get around some—(when I am helped—not much of my
you can particularly the adverse ones —You do not say anything about sending copies as I asked you in my
I take it for granted meantime that you will attend to this—and also that you will have balance of my
fine sunny day here & I am feeling fairly—have just had a good stout currying & kneading & it fits my
W's MS— Evn'g —Am sitting here alone by oak fire—went out in the wheel chair & enjoy'd it—sales of my
Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain'd with iron, or my ankles with iron?
I will take you down underneath this impassive exterior—I will tell you what to say of me; Publish my
name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, The friend, the lover's portrait, of whom
18 91 Beemer is away on holidays, Barber sick in bed—Ross and I have to get along best we can—I gave my
You may judge that I have no idle time on my hands. I have your cards of 18 th & 20 —thanks!
Without any thing very definite at this moment, my idea is of a poem, fitting in not unappropriately
All the pay I would want would be enough to pay my expenses, transportation &c., probably between 30
the title of a Book, the title or description of which is in the following words, to wit: GOOD-BYE MY
work, books especially, has pass'd; and waiting till fully after that, I have given (pages 423-438) my
I will take you down underneath this impassive exterior, I will tell you what to say of me, Publish my
name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, The friend the lover's portrait, of whom
Softly I lay my right hand upon you—you just feel it, I do not argue—I bend my head close, and half-
upon it, and twined around it a little moss, And brought it away, and I have placed it in sight in my
room, It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends, (For I believe lately I think of little
I will take you down underneath this impassive exterior—I will tell you what to say of me; Publish my
name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, The friend, the lover's portrait, of whom
leaves upon it, and twined around it a little moss, And brought it away—and I have placed it in sight in my
room; It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends, (For I believe lately I think of little
Me ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain'd with iron, or my ankles with iron?
Softly I lay my right hand upon you—you just feel it, I do not argue—I bend my head close, and half-
Far back, related on my mother's side, Old Salt Kossabone, I'll tell you how he died: (Had been a sailor
destination"—these the last words— when Jenny came, he sat there dead, Dutch Kossabone, Old Salt, related on my
Me ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain'd with iron, or my ankles with iron?
I will take you down underneath this impassive exterior, I will tell you what to say of me, Publish my
name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, The friend the lover's portrait, of whom
upon it, and twined around it a little moss, And brought it away, and I have placed it in sight in my
room, It is not needed to remind me as of my own dear friends, (For I believe lately I think of little