friends have called upon us, coming by the new road. When you write to John please tell him I wish he would secure me any seeds he can of [coniforace?] especially of [illegible] spruce. And I want an Alent work basket. The y make lovely baskets of a strong grass, with cones, which have a rattle woven in. He has doubless seen hundreds of them. Mr Fuller of Napa who used to live on [illegible] Charlotte Sound promised to send me one but I have not received it. Tell him to get you a polar bear skin, of a young bear for his little cub. They make “the loveliest blankets”, lined with quilted silk. What is the use in going to the lands of frost and fire unless one gets baskets and blankets for their pains. By the way, tell John that
Sunday evening – June 12
Your nestling is fast asleep in her cozy nest, and I wish you could walk among my trees, under this glorious noon. I have so much to say to you that I despair of even beginning with the pen, but I trust you do mentally answer my many questions, though they are unspoken. But you must answer this one with your pen. I see in the Bulletin the death of Mrs Julia Colby, wife of G W Colby at Benicia? The notice has affected me strangely. I knew a Miss Julia Colby in Sacramento, and liked her much. She went to Oakland to live. It cannot be the Julia
that I know, a frail delicate school teacher, who for aught I knew may have been a relative of our Granger friend Colby & so this notice got by mistake in the papers? The flowers have hardly withered on Carrie Colbys grave, and it seems equally incredible that she has a grave – [fellow?] so soon. I know that the wid[illegible] ways are past finding out, and have always opproved of a sattee for them, but perhaps they “burn” sufficiently without a funeral pyre. I was [mixed?] to have Dr Carr return from his last trip without calling upon you, and bringing me his own testimony concerning Miss Baby. I think of the little head as already showing curly rings, now remember, Louie, when the first real good Photo is taken (not one
then stupid little moon faces,) to put one of the little curls on it for me. And now the cherries are in their [prime?], & no John to eat them! We lose our cherry crop this year in consequence of moving our trees. We shall not have more fruit than we had last year; no plums or prunes, and the first setting of grapes were blyhted by cool foggy weather. I have a good many silk [worms?], and we propen enlarging our domesticites by the purchase of a cow. We have been co-operating with our next neighbor hitherto in the milk business. Elegant villas are springing up in our neighborhood, and our little settlement already nears a suburban aspect. Several esstern
the lily bulbs he dug for Mrs Congar have bloomed each year and this year I counted thirty five buds and blossoms on one stalk. I believe I want to see your mother more than any one in the world except my own. Nor do I forget the ever dear father in my outlookings towards a blessed visit ere long. We are getting so used to our rough life that I do not know as we shall behave properly if we get into [illegible] homes, you do not know how little we live in doors. I have had my stove out in a grove of tall bamboos, and though we did take most of our meals inside all the rest of it has been in the open air. We have studied the Bulletin [in margin: when I think of it all. Lovingly to all Strentzels & Muirs Jeanne Carr]
finding no word of your wanderer thus far. Set us hear when you have news. The University ferment is not stirred up by Grangers or Carrs this time. Three of the faculty had written to us months ago looking out for [illegible], and prospective shelters. Mrs Moore writes me that Ashbumer & Stebbins have stirred this witch cauldron in the hope of “rising to the top.” That being the law of ‘scum’, the expectation was reasonable enough, But you can fancy how funny it seems to have the Regents discover that a Hebrew Professor is needless, after employing one eight years! And that they have supernumeranis, with a Professor or instructor to eight ben[illegible] students! So small do the “mills of God”, grind some big concerts, I sing my “Good [might?], proud world
Original letter dimensions: 20.5 x 25 cm.
Carr, Jeanne C., "Letter from Jeanne Carr to Louie [Muir],  Jun 12." (1881). John Muir Correspondence (PDFs). 651.
Reel 04, Image 0598
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