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, and here we looked up Frank Williams, with whom we went to the roof for a bird's-eye view of the city

All over the city from thousands of stacks jets or puffs of steam, pure against the gray background (

Stars ascendant, a bit of mist and cloud—everything warmed and enlivened by the lights from the city.

We were speaking of the use of foreign words.

If I have the trick of music—verbal music—at all, I owe it to the great singers, actors: they were my

Towards eleven came his rap-rap, and we were all immediately astir. Mrs.

Closed his eyes as if not curious and yet we detected him opening them when we were not looking.

dip of ink as "too thick, sandy," but succeeded well enough with the second, though the signatures were

He asked after the weather and asked, "How is the city today? Busy?

Keller's notes of the day, which were rather encouraging. Went immediately into the front room.

Were there not signs of strength? "No, none at all."

Told him the facsimiles were hardly likely to be here in less than a week.

Clifford gone to work for Lippincott's, Harry Walsh gone West, William Walsh reported to have left the American

The side-walks were covered with ice, so that walking was dangerous.

mine for some time to either edit myself—or else to get someone else to select—a book of poems of the city

However much we may wish it were different, our wisdom is to accept the actual facts (after all has been

And that an American writing in eulogy should rank him with Thoreau below Emerson!

entirely convenient, fac-simile the letter of February 6th, and send it copiously to European and American

s ringings were incessant—first to be turned one way, then another, then for water, etc., etc.

He felt as Bucke does that they were left by the old bronchial trouble—not serious in themselves.

successful till this morning, when I came on the poems entitled 'Native Moments' & 'Once I Passed thro' a Populous

City.'

That proved that things were well. I went home, satisfied in spirit. Wednesday, March 9, 1892

Suddenly there was a great noise of whistles about the city. "That's six o'clock," he said.

I looked at him—his eyes were closed—the face had the hue of death. Who would have predicted it?

You were asleep when I came.""I suppose.""I am glad to hear you have spent a better day.""

I said I knew Walt could not possibly sign his name, but I would find out if there were any volumes now

His answers to questions, too, were more prompt. Looked up McKay again but again he was out.

They were glad to have me read the encouraging words from Longaker's letters.

Were they all over? Did he see them all?

(We were to experiment with the water-bed to see how it would float.)

As if he were in the midst of a great flame? or as if a bright light shone in his mind?

He is not the most typically American writer.

American Literature must be a continuation of English.

Davis and Warrie were in the next room he looked at me as I busied about and asked, "Done? Done?

We were all concerned. We continued to run water into the bed till it was pretty well filled.

At 12:20 we were done. I stayed some 15 minutes longer.

Harned, and both were now here. McAlister at once said, "This is the last—he is dying." Mrs.

Davis put a hot water bag at his feet, which were cold.

His face was looking towards the windows and his eyes were closed. Dr.

Davis were on the other side—Tom strolled in at the foot.

There were present at the bedside when he died Mrs. Davis, Warren Fritzinger, Thomas B.

We discussed cast and they were shortly at work upstairs upon it.

I stayed till 11:45 and they were still at work. Walt's face serene and sweet and composed.

The trachial sals were evident Friday and not so strongly by any means as in December.

Brinton came in with inquiries.Wired Ingersoll: "Miss Maud telegraphed that you were at Buffalo.

through Fourth to the railroad—and it continued its reach and play for three hours till, at 1:50, we were

Already private carriages were drawn up at various places. Overhead the clear blue—the day mild.

And I thought I saw then, too, Garland, though it was not till we were leaving Harleigh that I felt sure

I staid in studio until half past six studying the few photos I have with me, while you and others were

My daughter & his second daughter, Helen, were intimate friends, & from my sister, Mrs.

some of us in your face and demeanour spoke more eloquence than all the voices, though they, too, were

Be it as if I were with you, & here upon the paper I send you one as a token of my dearest love.

To which I responded by mentioning the Illustrated American of the present week, with its five pages

s friends in the city and abroad.

His were the words which first greatly stirred and exalted me; as I look over the familiar pages in their

He also on my reminder asked to see the Arena and the Illustrated American.

greeting me immediately with a question about Tom: also inquiring if I had the Arena and Illustrated American

Had already caused the magazines and papers to be put on his bed (Arena, Illustrated American, Star).

I was thinking, Horace, that it was Harry, not William, who wrote the Illustrated American piece.

I authorize you—give you full authorization—to go on just as if you were Walt Whitman—and of course Dave

Wished a copy of Illustrated American for himself.

He asked particularly to know if "the American is dead"—Barker's old sheet.

Davis to tell W. they were there and to find out if he would receive them and for how long. Mrs.

Davis came down to say they should go up—W. desired it, but were to stay only a minute.

Stedman told W. he would be in the city four weeks and probably would call again, W. expressing welcome.What

I left Illustrated American with him. He had wished an extra copy and now asked for it.

They were only here a few minutes, but they were bright minutes."

The pluck and bull-dog tenacity of life exhibited by the dying Hollandisk-American bard, Walt Whitman

They were talking of Edwin Arnold on my entrance. Ingersoll hearing me sprang up with warm hand.

I suggested, "An American will not rest: it takes a fever to make him rest."

In the parlor, while they were getting ready, a little talk.

They were both in high good humor.

Consult H. on this matter as soon as convenient and let me know the result.I have the "American" & "Poet

be around out of that house into a clean sunny room somewhere—if he could only be taken to Atlantic City—I

"He came with a Miss North: we had a pleasant little visit together—but it was very little—they were

They were dosing him with paregoric and brandy.

Directed me where they were to be found.

There were 125 in all. He remarked, "I expected a hundred—asked for them.

I said to him, "I am glad to hear from Williams that you saw Bucke's picture over there and were attracted

New York has a vast population of foreigners—the Jews alone a world in themselves.

"You were in at Dave's?" McKay promised to push right ahead. W. gratified. "Good for Dave!

I find W. was mistaken—Harry had nothing to do with Illustrated American piece, but says there's little

He had asked city editor, or managing, if anything had been done about Walt Whitman?

They were both pleasant reading—both. I am glad Sidney is pleased; the dear Sidney!

This city was comparatively small then, and Walt Whitman was as conspicuous a citizen as any—knew everybody

Summer his all the year round convenience and comfort, and the broad collar was turned over a silk American

thereafter every photographer in town displayed colored pictures of Walt, especially to show his American

There were omnibuses in those days—"stages" they called them—and every driver knew Walt Whitman; and

"It must have been from 1860 to 1865."

I am a little at wonder why the American reprint takes up this picture: it appeared in the English edition

phrase; how he is saturated with the idea of America & democracy, as much as the old prophets of Israel were

"Yes, just that: a bright, subtle American, wholesome for America, democracy," and "Yes, send a book

lately received from him in "A Backward Glance" p. 434, he has spoken words which alone can save American

But meanwhile what about H[arned] and the Camden men—I thought they were to attend to Mrs.

It would be a blessing if he were to slip away, quietly, quietly, some night as he rested."

Warrie went to the door with me, and while we were there talking we heard W.'

entirely convenient, facsimile the letter of February 6th and send it copiously to European and American

How strange to learn from it that American magazines can even still reject his contributions without

immense joy to us to find that it is to be ours still.The last mail brought letters from Traubel which were

ask if you will not find an early opportunity to write a line to Peter Eckler of 35 Fulton St. this city—the

Gilder turned to me, "You were reading to him? Don't let me interrupt you.

me better than I knew—and he set it down so hotly I have been wondering myself if my old opinions were

"I doubt it: his eyes were closed."

"I thought you were already off, Warrie?" Warrie then approached and took W.'s hand, "Good-bye, Mr.

Indeed, all of us fellows who brush about the cities are obliged to be cute."

grip & hold upon the world has always been so strong that it can only be detached bit by bit as it were

And to my remark, "I told him we were glad to hear from him but sorry to hear him speak in such a tone

I earnestly wish it were all over—the strain is becoming (in many ways) too much for us.Love to youR.

I went right in, and as he proved to be awake, we were quickly in conversation together.

And from then on all Warrie's questions (many) were answered only with "Eh" and "Oh."

Whitman, I think, is the first of American bards; it matters little who the second is, for the second

What if you were to send a load of these to England—would they not be a marvel, a gift out of the heavens

that William Henry Channing had said to her, or to William, that he was rejoiced to find that the American

Is now at home in city again—2041 Chestnut. W. greatly interested in all this.