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University of California, Oakland, Cal.,Oct. 29, 1873. Dear Louie: I received your letter only to-day, but should not
have waited for it to thank your father for the grapes. The grapes came last Monday morning. We had a notice that they were
at the express office Sat. evening too late to get them before the hour of closing. That was the day after the meeting of
the Club. We distributed them immediately among the friends -- and left for San Jose: where the State Grange were in convention
last week, which with some doings in the Normal School, kept us all the week. The subject before the Club was Fruit Nomenclature,
and I did not therefore prepare any elaborate account of my trip, and occupied only half an hour -which it seems was an appetizer
for I am requested to repeat it with amplifications for the benefit of the Oakland Library. Should this be one of a series
of readings for their benefit I will let you know. I am very much defrauded and as much provoked that I believed the promises
made to us about homes at Berkeley. Dr. Merritt who has been the principal Regent engaged in building operations, assured
me that our houses would be completed by the 18th of September, just as I was starting for the mountains, and as I was far
beyond post offices I felt that I must limit myself to that time and be on hand for the necessary moving. Came home alone,
leaving my companions (the most delightful woman ever had or will have) to spend a blissful Autumn between the head of Kings
River, around Mt. Whitney, etc., and to take a horseback journey from there to Shasta, in which I could have accompanied them
had I known there was no home and no moving in the case. It vexes me to read the five letters I have received since I left
them and know what might have been. They have been in entirely untrodden ways - but all the time with animals, so that the
fatigues were nothing to those already borne. No such fortunate conjunction of kindred spirits will ever occur again, nor
shall I ever find myself with gentlemen whose companionship is so instructive. I never once felt that I was an incumbrance
- or restraint upon their movements. I want you to know my John Muir - and I wish I could give him to some noble young woman
'for keeps1 and so take him out of the wilderness into the society of his peers. As he is coming to spend the winter with
us, I hope you will meet. But it is awfully provoking that I cannot gather all my pets into a home which would be attractive
to them, and some expression of myself. My homes hitherto have been larger and roomier bodies, expressing my individuality
so well, that you would have felt acquainted with me, and with all my beloveds, had you been shut up there all by yourself.
I always expected to see your mother's bonnie face by my ingleside, which does not mean a stone, or a hole in the floor:
Thank the father as he should be thanked. The pretty leaves v/ere spoiled not so the unspoilable kindness. Loving you all
dearly, we are,Your obliged, E. S. Jeanne Carr I am very sorry to hear the father is ailing - I trust not for long.