I have been tramping about all day to-day, looking for some work. I don't care what it is--I can do anything to keep alive for a week or ten days.--I wonder if they will advance me some money at once. * * * * * They all stare at me suspiciously. I think some of the wildness of the woods must still hang about me.--Anyway, I walk along on air, I fear nothing. I could hug all the passers-by. My book is at the publisher's! I could beg, I think, if I had to, and do it serenely, exultingly. I have only a dollar--but have I not all the stars? * * * * * I was thinking to-day about Carlyle, and that ghastly accident to his manuscript. Let others blame Carlyle for his sins--for those days of agony and horror I forgive him all things, and love him. I have the original manuscript of The Captive put safely away. If that poem were destroyed it would kill me. I can think of anything else in the world but such a thing as that. * * * * * July 10th. What will they write me about it? I picture to myself all the emotions of a publisher when he discovers a poem like that! Ah yes, good publisher, I have scanned your lists for many months back; but you have published nothing like The Captive. And then I shall taste my first drop of success. --I do not want it for myself--it is not that--I want it for the book! I want people to love it--I want it to stir their souls! I want brothers and friends and lovers in that great glory of mine! That is why I want all the world to shake with it. * * * * * And then I can go on! * * * * * --I wonder if they will write to me sooner, when they find out what it is.-- * * * * * I have been picturing myself with some money! It is all over now--and I can do that--will it not be strange to have some money! I have been thinking where I should live, and what I should do. The first thing I shall do is to get somebody to teach me music. And then all the concerts that I long for! How long has it been since I have heard a note of music? * * * * * I think that is all I want. I want no toys in my life. I want my freedom, and my soul, and the forest once again.-- * * * * * I read some of the psalms to-night--far, far into the morning. My heart is a psalm. * * * * * --I have gotten something to do! I am a waiter in a restaurant on Sixth Avenue! I got the place this morning. Ugh!--it is nasty beyond words. But I do not care, it will keep me alive. * * * * * July 11th.