Transcription:
4 I propose to take life easy and then to begin again my trade in the journal I have not yet written upon the Yosemite.
I dread to do it, lest I should fail; and then there was so much of my family to write that I grew tired of it, and wound
off when I reached San Francisco. One of these days, however, my audacious pen will proceed to desecrate the glories of you
valley. I have had for some months thousand's Walden and his Excursions , as also Ja? Ingdon's last poems piled up together
on my book case for you, and have long ago lost all patience with my husband and Prof. Runkle that they give me no chance
to send them. They are yours, and shall reach you sometime, but I regret that you will? not have them these long winter months.
This hastily written letter will go where its writer would gladly follow it, even if she had to plunge through snow-drifts
as high as those on the Glacier path; for the sight of all those splendors on which you, almost alone of all men, are privileged
to look. Seems to be worth any hardships to obtain. Write to us when you can, and tell us all the great news about yourself
and the valley. 1 in margin: With kindest regards, illegible Your friend Abba G. Woolson Boston. 64 Boylston St. Feb.
4, 1872 Dear Mr. Muir: Your letters produced a illegible in the Wo illegible son family yesterday, and the little sprig
of cedar, so fresh and green, looked as illegible in their eyes as if it had just fallen from the battlements of Heaven. What
great tales you tell of the forty cataracts pruning over the walls, each larger than Nevada fall when we behold it It made
me impatient of all things about me, and set me to longing more f illegible then ever for the wings of a dove, that I might
drop down among them and hear and see them for myself. One of these days I pray that it may be my portion to spend a summer
and a winter, - a full year; in the Yosemite. Nothing else