Transcription:
running over? the fence. Vines will live and grow for me while flowers will not. Vines are like the children, they cling to
me. (I have five and I am sure of their love. Back of the drive way, are fine trees where when it snows, I walk, and look
up to the strong straight arms laden with snow and tell them how beautiful they are. I love the trees, and the solitude of
the woods, and still there is a sadness about it. Why do things we love fill us with awe and sadness? If we cannot claim
the same ancestors it is too bad for the resemblance is so strikingly strong that I cannot but feel that you would see it.
Often strangers resemble each other I know but I claim my love for beautiful nature comes from relationship to John Muir -
Please indulge me in the belief for the love of the noble scotch people. I thank you again for your kind letter and the biographical
sketch of your life, which I shall cherish with all your writings. When you think you can spare a little time to write me
a description of your home and family I would most truely appreciate it. My writing is so poor I dislike to write- I am
with complements of the season yours sincerely Annie Muir Webster. 71st Haverford Ave.