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require it—I never undressed coldest nights last winter—tired oft as an old vetrans , I dropped in my

narative. narrative Got a heater last winter, gave a picture for it—pipe passed into chimney through my

room mad made it comfortable— My sister on Staten Island has been dangerously ill for some weeks—now

several children and grand children—sincere— guiless— guileless beloved——I have not seen either of my

June 9 '89 Lou, I rec'd the aspargus, strawberries &c, by Charley—have had some of the a[sparagus] for my

least either on the right or left side) with a button at top—I am so in the habit of carrying things in my

dull here muchly—I am sitting up in the 2d story room alone—door & windows open—Did you or George get my

Whitman noted that Louisa "bro't my new blue gown" on June 11, 1889 (The Commonplace-Book, Charles E.

I must have known you all my life you are wonderful, how did you learn the sacred truth of Leaves of

It is firstrate I did make that condition in my letters to Gardner —i.e. that my corrections on proofs

However, those few lines will at least serve as an unambiguous testimony of my deep and true devotion

Camden Monday 9 A M '89 Am sitting here just ended my breakfast, an egg, some Graham bread & coffee—all

wh' I relish'd—rec'd my morning mail, & send you this f'm Dr B —with my scribbling on back—fine sunny

hours down to the Delaware shore, high water)—sky & river never look'd finer—was out also at one p m to my

bottle of champagne—(lunch, or dinner, but I ate nothing)—So you see I am getting around sort o' in my

summer—I want to get out somewhere (sea side or mountains) but it is a fearful job for me to be moved from my

My dear Mr.

My father has been yachting in the Sunbeam. He thanks you for your letter: he is not up to writing.

If convenient please give the bearer, for the Photo: Process Co: for me, the negative of the photo: my

Camden noon June 23 '89 Sunny, cool, first rate day—Every thing much the same in my condition &c.

My dear Mr.

But I want also, at least in fancy, to reach my hand across the sea, & to take your hand, & to tell you

I think of seventy years as quite the vestibule of age, because my own father is rigorous, at least in

Have lost my recognition of your silent ever-swaying power, ye mighty, elemental throes, In which and

description of the Banquet and so on—The rest of the letter is a free report of what we talked about in my

present—I send you "Unity" and "Liberty" —I send U to Eldridge and Burroughs — Nothing markable in my

I am sorry to tell you that after all my careful economy & saving, the various things into which William

But I have been trying my best to put into order; but must soon drop all & go for a time, or I shall

If ever the people that owe money to William would pay me, I should not be so worried about my daily

It is like taking my life to have to give up a home with no prospect of ever having one again.

So I said, I will keep you informed of my whereabouts. & with love always— Nelly O'Connor. Ellen M.

3d day—havn't taken any medicine in a long time—(no doctors here 3 or 4 months)—sent the big b'k to my

Traubel has read my letter to you, I presume. My essay on you and my translation of "D.

I have offered & agreed to return her $5.00—one of Wm's subscriptions, thinking one of my books w d be

worst of the weakness, caving-in & head inertia—but I feel it, the dose, for an hour after taking in my

both—his is one of those college pessimistic dudes Europe (& America too) sends out I am sitting here in my

I have offered & agreed to return her $5.00—one of Wm's subscriptions, thinking one of my books w d be

July 12, 89 Dear Walt: I write you briefly this morning before starting on my 2 weeks vacation to Delaware

At that time I was having one of my streaks of insomnia, & was very wretched for two or three weeks.

I go about all day with two balls of twine at my side, training the young vines in the way they should

, wh' of course is the greatest help—Got a card f'm Hannah, & have written to her this evn'g—I send my

Warren —I wish I had something to send them—They are getting printed in a little book the speeches &c at my

important cases and good fees on prospect I was unable to realize the cash proceeds; so I applied and got my

—I hope to resume practice in this state, some time in the future, when I have paid my debts and saved

My mother is still living in Boston at the age of 75, well and hearty.

I hope you are fairly comfortable—God bless you my old and long tried friend— "With fond affection and

time fanning away the flies &c—not down ill but not far from that—some blackberries & a rare egg for my

breakfast— Sunset —Have had my supper & relish'd it—send this hence Camden (to Phila) 8 P M July 13—

July 12, 89 Dear Walt, I write you briefly this morning before starting on my 2 week vacation to Delaware

At that time I was having one of my streaks of insomnia, & was very wretched for two or three weeks.

I go about all day with two balls of twine at my side, training the young vines in the way they should

—tho't it might be instigated by my tonic—& have intermitted it to-day (for the first since you sent)

—am sitting here after my supper, & shall go out in wheel chair to river side—y'r letters rec'd —weather

every week or month a button or peg gives out—most of the time mildly—but I realize it well enough—my

dulling)—warmth shaded a little to-day & cloudy any how—ate a rare egg & some Graham bread & coffee for my

—I hope to resume practice in the state, some time in the future, when I have paid my debts and saved

My mother is still living in Boston at the age of 75, well and hearty.

—God bless you my old and long tried friend—"With fond affection and recollection.

write (moderately) & get out doors in a propell'd chair & keep good spirits—Nothing very significant in my

by accounts) is left with very little financially—spent an hour down by the Delaware river side in my

even though only in thought and by letter, though ere long I hope to see you face to face, for He, my

To thee I offer my affection, for that is all I can, but may we meet ere long. So long.

Camden Sunday P M July 21 '89 Dull with me—am sitting quietly in my 2d story room—am not taking the tonic

has come safely —thanks—I am here yet getting along fairly—seven weeks hot weather here—but I hug to my

old den thro' all as the best I can do in my immobile condition—no sales of books —love to all inquiring

Whitman made a similar observation in The Commonplace-Book on July 19, 1889: "No sale worth mentioning of my

Wilson will tackle in some way my Whitman."

—have just eaten my supper, stew'd chicken & rice—feel poorly these days & nights— a shade easier this

D and Ed Wilkins (my nurse) are good & so far I get along fairly with appetite, grub & sleep wh' of course

hear from him often—I had a letter from Ruth enclosed, (tho' I suppose she has written to you)—I send my

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

I am a native Texan, but my father belonged to the Georgia branch of the Whitman family.

Wilson will tackle in some way my Whitman .

Camden P M Aug: 4 '89 Nothing very new—have not left my Mickle St: quarters this summer (hardly can )

—am feeling fairly to-day—my friend Traubel has written (at their request) & sent on to "Liberty" (Boston

Fridays Hill, Haslemere Surrey England Aug 13" 1889 My dear friend: Through one & another source we hear

I have full use of my one remaining eye and am in much better health in this much criticised but really

Camden, 14 th Aug. '89 My dear Walt Whitman, Your welcome p'card of July 23 rd reminds me how the time

has slipped away since my last letter to you.

My picture collation goes on —I send papers &c: to Mrs. O'C at North Perry, Maine.

I have seen the copy, which you s o kindly gave to my cousin Phillips Stewart, and should li ke one as

I have been in Camden once or twice & should have called to see you but thought perhaps my coming would

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

Herbert was here last evn'g very good visit—Hot weather here—Am pretty ill—one of my worst spells—now

a week—half the time stretch'd out on the bed—half the time in my big chair as now—Love to you all—glad

Whitman occasionally referred to Stafford as "My (adopted) son" (as in a December 13, 1876, letter to

Camden am Aug 24 '89 Am easier than during the week, but bad enough yet—Have made away with my breakfast

Camden, 14 th Aug. '89 My dear Walt Whitman, Your welcome p'card of July 23 rd reminds me how the time

has slipped away since my last letter to you.

The Fritzinger brothers were the children of a blind sea captain, Henry Whireman Fritzinger, for whom

was welcome (I have sent it to Dr Bucke, as he likes such) —Nothing very significant—am still here in my

I had to come back to look after my farm. The heavy rains came near washing it away.

I & my man live alone in the old house, I am chief cook & bottle washer I keep well & busy, & am not

In a couple of weeks my grapes will be all off (only 1/2 crop this year) & I shall take another holiday

I wish you were here to enjoy this view, & this air, & also my grapes & peaches. Drop me a card.

Japanee Japanese Hartman call'd yesterday —have been idly reading & scribbling a little to-day—one of my

Aug, 28. 1889 My dear Whitman, I send enclosed a proof of an engraving by Closson from Innes's beautiful

Camden Aug: 28 '89 y'rs of yesterday has come & welcome—I am feeling fairly enough to-day, after one of my

good-will & good luck to you, dear friends both—Nothing very new or different with me—I have just finished my

& blessings — I am writing for pub'n a little still—have had a bad spell last week & before—one of my

Bucke is referring to Whitman's poem "My 71st Year," which would be published in Century Illustrated

I have abt 10 minutes a day to my self!

Wilson has my MS now. Am going to take a vacation in a month.

Do drop me a line dear & revered papa, & relieve my anxiety abt you. W. S. Kennedy.