After the Argument
A group of little children with their ways and chatter flow in, Like welcome rippling water o’er my heated nerves and flesh.
For Us Two, Reader Dear
Simple, spontaneous, curious, two souls interchanging,
With the original testimony for us continued to the last.
Memoranda
{Let me indeed turn upon myself a little of the light I have been so fond of casting on others.
Of course these few exceptional later mems are far, far short of one’s concluding history or thoughts or life-giving—only a hap-hazard pinch of all. But the old Greek proverb put it, “Anybody who really has a good quality” (or bad one either, I guess) “has all.” There’s something in the proverb; but you mustn’t carry it too far.
I will not reject any theme or subject because the treatment is too personal.
As my stuff settles into shape, I am told (and sometimes myself discover, uneasily, but feel all right about it in calmer moments) it is mainly autobiographic, and even egotistic after all—which I finally accept, and am contented so.
If this little volume betrays, as it doubtless does, a weakening hand, and decrepitude, remember it is knit together out of accumulated sickness, inertia, physical disablement, acute pain, and listlessness. My fear will be that at last my pieces show indooredness, and being chain’d to a chair—as never before. Only the resolve to keep up, and on, and to add a remnant, and even perhaps obstinately see what failing powers and decay may contribute too, have produced it.
And now as from some fisherman’s net hauling all sorts, and disbursing the same.}