Transcription:
The Dial, Chicago, May 21, 1909. My dear Mr. Muir: I thank you for the Bibliography, but more for the words of friendship,
which touched me very deeply. I am indeed a richer and happier man for having known you and received these words from your
heart. Leaving California was hard this time - heartbreaking, almost, to turn from the sunshine and color and green hills
where Anderson lives. Dear Anderson is lonely, and has an unjoyous live. He loves you sincerely; it would, I think, make him
happy - or happier - if you could be near him this summer. Why not camp with him, or make a wee bit camp of your own under
one of those grand oaks near him? He would do anything to have you there - even (I half believe) to extirpating those pollinjay
poplars and pestiferous peppers which now affront the landscape and defame the noble oaks. Soon, I suppose, our recent fellow-travellers
will be returning from their ocean vouage, and you will be greeting them and inquiring solicitously as to Uncle John's fortunes
at sea, and particularly how he fared as regards his favority delicacy of mush. What were the Pacific Ocean, the islands of
the Southern Seas, Yosemite or the Grand Canyon, without mush? A mushless world, and all without a plan. Well, let him have
his mush, and God bless him, say I, forever. Even mush is none too good for him. I am back in the vortex of Chicago, which
has swallowed me, or nearly. But I am not resigned, and hope somehow to flop or crawl out again into the sun and to the mountains.
I could not begin to tell you how much I would like to join you in your July outing. I hardly dare think of it; for it does
not seem at all possible for me. But I thank you for wanting me to go. That is much. Believe me, ever Truly and affectionately
yours, Francis F, Browne