He seldom went for a drive alone, and as a rule chose as his companion one of the many young men of his acquaintance. He always wished to hold the lines himself. Although Mrs. Davis was the usual messenger to and from the stable, although she got her charge ready for his drives, assisted him to the carriage and almost lifted him in and out of it, neither he nor anyone else ever proposed that she should have the pleasure of a drive, or suggested that an occasional airing might do her good. While owning the horse Mr. Whitman did not wholly discontinue his ferry rides, but he no longer "haunted the Delaware River front" as formerly. What a change two years had made in his surroundings!--and what a change in those of Mary Davis! He had come more prominently before the great world; she had nearly passed out of her own limited sphere. The tide which turned when they entered the Mickle Street house was now in full flood for him. But what for her? His book had had a good sale; private contributions were sent to him, amounting to many hundreds of dollars; and from this time on he did little with his pen, though he got occasional lifts from periodicals for both old and new work, and the New York _Herald_ paid him a regular salary as one of its editorial staff. But he resigned this position the following year. VII BROOMS, BILLS AND MENTAL CHLOROFORM "_He detested a broom. He considered it almost a sin to sweep, and always made a great fuss when it was done._"--EDDIE WILKINS. "_The tremendous firmness of Walt Whitman's nature grew more inflexible with advancing years._"--HORACE TRAUBEL. The second winter in Mickle Street passed much like the previous one. To Mr. Whitman it brought heavier mail, an increase of complimentary notes and invitations, more numerous requests for autographs, steady progress with revision-work, a little new and profitable composition, the delightful companionship of old friends, the pleasure of making new ones, and the comfortable assurance that come what might, there was a capable captain at the helm, who would on all occasions guide the ship of affairs smoothly along. To Mrs. Davis it brought the same old round of work. The next spring and part of the summer were charming seasons to the poet. In them he revelled in his turnout; was sought after, eulogized and lauded. His day-star was truly in the ascendant. This acknowledged popularity was a revelation to Mrs. Davis, who often asked herself, "Where were these friends--the ones in particular who have always lived in Camden--when a short time ago poor old Mr. Whitman, homeless and uncared for, so much needed their help?"