5:40 P.M. From Mrs. Davis' report I concluded that W. had been much better today—and after I had entered his room and he had offered his big hand—clasped my own, I was sure he was greatly improved, though he did still insist upon it that he was "poorly—poorly—still." Said, "I have been congratulating myself upon the now several clear cold days. They will help our pictures along." And— "He will certainly give us some Monday—and if he does, we will be supplied for Christmas." Asked curiously, "How do you get a check certified? Tell me how you would go about it?" And before I could answer— "For instance, if a fellow wanted to send money to some fellow in another state—say, Vermont." I raised my eyes—was it his sister? Something to outwit this scoundrel in Burlington? This simply
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [Begin page 368] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
crossed my mind—I made no mention of it. I told him specifically and he seemed quickly to understand, thanking me for it.
Said he still had no word from Talcott Williams. How about Lippincott's piece? "I will do it. I wrote Stoddart today—have already commenced, making changes here and there." Might give me "odds and ends" for my piece.
Then to another topic: "I have an item of news for you—three or four days old—but I forgot to tell you. My piece is not to appear in the North American Review for January. The editor has so written me." I asked, "But only for reasons of space?" "I think possibly it was part that—but more than that, too: there are other reasons, too—word from this or that to this or that effect." I tried to discredit, but he explained, "There are things which the fellows probably do not like—for instance, I say in effect at one point that a literature adequate to America is not to come alone from New England influences—religious, political, scientific, social—and so on. I am quite sure that such paragraphs are not pleasant reading to the college men." Still I was not convinced and he laughed at my "stubbornness"—pleasantly saying, however, that he did "not blame" me.
Returned me the Murger manuscripts for Morris. Had he read them? "Very little—very little." Was the manuscript too bad? "No—not that: I tried several times—they did not touch me. I have therefore left them alone."
I was on my way to Thomas concert tonight. Campanini to sing. I told W. of old experiences with Campanini—how much more the male voice was to me than the female—for expression of power and breadth of beauty. He interrupted, "You never heard Alboni: you would not say that if you had heard her." But I had heard Patti a number of times and did not like her: she was cold perfection. He laughed, "I see what you mean—another Jenny Lind." I rather demurred, "I imagined Jenny Lind had magnetsim." W. then— "She was not all intellect—but was much intellect, too. The perfection of a singer to the average is in trills, flutes, pirouettings, intellect, perfect poise—
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [Begin page 369] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
utter, invariable. But no—no—no!—that's not it, I am sure: it's something subtler, deeper, not so perfect!"
Mrs. Davis thinks W. has distinctly failed in past fortnight. She is calm about it—but fears, unless he picks up markedly again and soon.
Old letter—marked with W.'s strong line—from J. B. Gilder—dated 2nd. Evaded questions cursorily. Had he answered? What would I answer?
Showed him letter from Bush—written with type-writer:
W. read easily—cried out, "Noble fellow—you should keep it." Then as to type-writer— "I wonder how they go? But of course I am too old—too old!" And again, "Besides—I really have not much writing to do—and what I do tends to keep me out of mischief."