Part 2. Seeking A Publisher - May 1st. -- June 2d.

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_ PART II. SEEKING A PUBLISHER May 1st. -- June 2d.

I said to myself to-day: "Do you really believe that the world would heed that poem? Do you think that if any publisher published it, he could sell it?" I answered, "No, I do not."

If one took it I should think I was making a fool of him. I offer it on that chance!

--What am I going to do? I do not know. I must try to find some work that does not tear me to pieces; and then perhaps some day I shall be able to write something different.

* * * * *

May 3d.

My whole soul is in a turmoil these days. I struggle,--I can not give up while I live; but for what do I struggle? I am a man journeying in a thicket; I can not see one step before me.

--I try to forget myself--I try to get interested in a book. But I never had but one kind of interest. I can not get used to living without a purpose, without enthusiasm, without morality.

* * * * *

I have no ideas any more. My whole life is shrunken and contracted. It is all stagnant--the garden of my soul is full of weeds. The broad fields that I used to cover, the far-off things I used to strive for--what have they to do with me now?

* * * * *

--I heard a gull to-day--far, far up--a mere speck in the sky. I started, as I watched him vanish. Then I said: "But you, too, will have to come down and mingle in the turmoil and the danger!"

* * * * *

May 6th.

I go over into the Park--the springtime is in full glory, all the sights that used to thrill my heart are there; the splendor of new verdure and young flowers, the birds that I love rioting in song. But it moves me not in the least, it only makes me ten times more mournful. I turn away.

Why, once an apple spray in blossom was to me a drunken ecstasy.

--Shall I ever know what it is to be generous, and rich and royal in my heart again? To know that surging fulness of emotion that makes you think of gold and purple and regal pomp?

I tell you the whole thing is a question of money with me. I have come down to the bare bed-rock of sordidness--I must have money--_money!_--It is everything in this world to me. I can never think of anything else again until I have it.

* * * * *

I see myself going out into the world and fighting as other men fight, and making a place in it for myself.

* * * * *

May 8th.

I am getting down again; my poor hoard is going! I sit and count it--I calculate it--I lay out my bill of fare. Oh, where shall I go, what _can_ I do? Can I write anything? I ask. I have nothing in me but a naked, shivering longing.

I dread to be in the desperate fix I was the last time I could find no work. And yet I can not make up my mind to do anything until I hear from this one publisher more.

* * * * *

May 9th.

I walked over there to-day to save a postage-stamp. They had not heard from the reader yet.

* * * * *

--I sit down and try to study. Then I get up and say I ought not to put it off any longer. Then again I think: "Wait until to-morrow, at any rate."

* * * * *

May 10th.

I was looking at that man's magazine to-day. What thoughts it brought to me--what agonies, what longings, what despair! And, above all, what ocean-floods of bitterness!

* * * * *

I walked all the way down to the wholesale-paper store. I thought I would prefer that to evils that I know not of. I have almost a terror of having to come into contact with new people.

But my place was filled. I trudged home again. I went to the publisher's too; nothing yet. The three weeks were up to-day.

* * * * *

May 12th.

I dared not wait any more to-day. I had just three dollars and ten cents left. And my rent is due the day after to-morrow. I have answered every sort of advertisement, from dishwashing to tutoring a boy. I guess I looked too seedy for the latter.

* * * * *

--Sometimes when I am wandering around in all this misery, still yearning for what I might have been, the thought comes across my mind: "And in this huge world there might yet be some one who would understand the thing! Some one who would help me! Some one by whom it would be an honor to be helped--if I could only find him."

And here I am, having my life beaten out of me, spark by spark,--and I can't find him--I _can't_!

* * * * *

I cry out for money--for money!

* * * * *

But no, it is others who have it.--And the way that they use it--O God, the way that they use it!

If all the world were poor, it would not be so bad; but the sight of wealth--of infinite oceans of it squandered in perfect frenzies of ostentation! The sight of this "world"--this world, which they take quite as a matter of course!

* * * * *

I have seen a good deal of this world myself, and I at least do not take it thus. I gaze upon the men and women who do take it thus, and I say, "Are you men and women really? Or are you not some strange, un-Godmade creatures, without ever a thought about justice, without ever a gleam of reason or purpose or sense?"

* * * * *

May 14th.

I have tramped the streets for two days more. I was made so ill by my anxiety last time that I made up my mind I would not risk it again. I asked my landlady to-night to wait a while, as I was looking for some work. She was ungracious enough, but I have no longer any sensibilities--I only want to be safe. She can wait--she has my trunk, as I told her.

* * * * *

Probably she wouldn't even be as willing, if she could see what is in it! I have no longer anything to sell. I had to exchange my waiter's costume for a pair of trousers, for mine were all in rags.

I have two dollars and seventy cents. I imagine that is a safe margin.

There are no words that can tell what an absolutely deadening thing it is to be wandering about the city looking for work. It turns you into a log of wood--you not only no longer have an idea, you have not a thought of an idea. You simply drag on and on until the thing becomes a habit, and you go without even thinking of that.

* * * * *

May 15th.

"Our readers have examined with a great deal of interest the unusual piece of work which you have sent us. But it has been our experience that poetry proves such a distressing adventure commercially, that we are forced to decline the offer which you have so kindly made us. We wish, however, to assure you of our desire to see anything else which you may have on hand, or may have at any time in future."

That is about the way the letter ran--I tore it up. I did not read it but once. I took the thing to another firm--it can't do any harm.

I have not been able to find anything to-day.

* * * * *

May 16th.

So long as I have thoughts I can write a journal; but while my life is that of an animal, it doesn't seem very necessary. I have always felt myself an outcast--a poet has to be that; but I never felt it quite so much as at present. I wander around from door to door; and those who have homes and money and power--they simply order me out of the way.

* * * * *

May 18th.

I do not think I can stand this much longer. I never had such a time before finding anything. I think my state must be written in my face--men no longer have any use for me.

I fear my coat is seedy. And I know my collar is soiled; but the two I left at the laundry won't be done till to-morrow.

I have broken my last two-dollar bill. I watch in terror for the next week--I can not face that woman again. I must save enough for that.

* * * * *

May 19th.

I applied for a position as office-boy to-day--I was desperate. I have not enough to last me through a week, if I pay the woman anything.

But they said I was too old.

My feet are most horribly sore. I can hardly walk. And I have the strangest ringing in my head. I could not eat any supper--and the milk won't keep in this warm weather, either.

* * * * *

May 22d.

The day before yesterday, when I woke up in the morning, I could hardly stand. My head was on fire, and I do not think I have ever been so sick before. I got around to a drug-store--the man said he would give me some powders; he said they were forty cents, but I dared not pay it. He gave them to me for a quarter. He said I should have a tonic, but I haven't had it.

I was too ill to move all day yesterday. I am better to-day, but still I daren't go out. I have only eighty-five cents left.

* * * * *

I must manage to get out and get some work to-morrow, or I shall go mad.

* * * * *

I had a scene with that horrible creature yesterday. It was the second week--she thought I was shamming, I know. She said she never allowed her "roomers" to get behindhand--it was her invariable rule. O God, I was so sick I could scarcely see--I did not care what she did. I told her that I had no money; that I was waiting to get some work; that I would pay her the first moment I could.

"Why don't you keep work when you get it?" she demanded. "You have been idle nearly all the whole time you've been here."

I could not argue with her; she can turn me out when she likes.

* * * * *

May 24th.

I dragged myself out to-day. I feel better except for the blisters on my feet. But nothing to do! Nothing to do! Oh, I am half mad.

I thought to-day I would call upon some of my relatives. But I bit my lips together--no, I will not ever do that!

* * * * *

It is the ghastly heat that kills me. Yesterday was almost stifling, I thought I could not bear it. I never knew it to be so hot so early.

* * * * *

May 26th.

I have got but thirty-five cents, and to-day I was so tired I had to rest for two hours nevertheless. Oh, merciful heavens, but this is fiery torture!

* * * * *

It is half a week again. I know she will not let me stay another week. I did a strange thing--I wrapped up all my papers and carried them out under my coat. She can keep everything else I have, but my papers are mine. I took them to the grocery-store where I buy things and asked the man to keep them for me.

* * * * *

May 27th.

What does a man do when he wants to work and can't find anything? Does he really starve? Or does he get locked up? Or what?

I said to-day: I will eat nothing but bread and oatmeal till I get something to do.

* * * * *

May 29th.

It was just as I thought. She has demanded her money--and I have but fifteen cents! I helped a man up with a trunk and got ten.--She told me that I would have to get out. It is clear to-night. I shall sleep somewhere in the Park. I can not write any more.

* * * * *

May 31st.

I got some work to do after all--at the height of my despair. I am giving out samples of a hitherto unequaled brand of soap.

It was yesterday morning, I met one of the men and asked him where he got the job. He said they wanted more men, so I got on a car and rode down there in haste. I made fifty cents yesterday, for half a day, and a dollar to-day. Thank God!

I spent the night before last in the Park, and last night in the room where I am writing. It is in a tenement-house. I paid fifty cents a week for it, and there is a drunken man snoring on the other side of a board partition.

I sha'n't go back to the other place, of course, until I get more money. Besides, she has probably rented the room.

* * * * *

I am so relieved at having gotten something to do. I believe I am even proud of the soap.

I am getting used to walking all day; anything so long as one doesn't have the agonizing worry about starvation. I am ill, but I shall keep at it, and answer advertisements meanwhile by mail, till I get something better.

I am going out to sit by the river. I can not stand the heat and stench in this room. To-morrow is Sunday. I shall have a long rest.

June 2d.

I did not go back to distribute soap to-day. I have given up the work. I have just seventy cents left in my pocket. The rent of this room is up on June 6th, and the money will last me until then.

On June 6th I am going to die.

* * * * *

--To-day I went to the publisher's. I said: "On June 6th I am going out of town. (Grim humor, that!) On June 6th you will have had the manuscript three weeks and more. I shall have to ask you to have a report by that date, or to return it to me now." He said: "You shall have the report."

If they will publish the poem, I shall wait. If not, I shall die on June 6th. That is settled. _

Read next: Part 3. The End: June 3d. -- June 6th.

Read previous: Part 2. Seeking A Publisher: April 3d. -- April 28th.

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