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Yosemite Valley, July 6, 1884. Dear Grandpa and Grandma: How thankful we were this evening to hear from you and little
Wanda. Why did you not telegraph? John was so anxious that he became really miserable. He entreats you to keep the baby away
from hot water and from those hall doors. As soon as you get this telegraph, Baby all right, if all is well. John's eyes fill
with tears whenever I speak of the baby, but we are thankful we did not try to bring her, for the ride on Thursday was perfectly
awful, in an old stage, seemingly without cushions or springs, over the rockiest road, jolt, bump, and jolt for hours. But
on Friday the ride was wholly easy and delightful, although there were 12 people in the vehicle, but it had splendid springs
and soft cushions. The people next to us were 4 from St. Louis, very pleasant, one a son of Clark, the early western explorer.
When we reached Copperopolis we found the stage had been ordered off till next noon, so we lost 24 hours. If only they had
told us in Stockton I could have gone to see poor Mrs. Davis We could not have selected a more perfect time for coming to
Yosemite. The falls are glorious, the beautiful river brimming full, and the moonlight is marvelous on the foaming water and
the grand rock temples of God. And oh, the magnificent forests, pines, and cedars and Sequoias And the baby trees so exquisitely
perfect Oh, you must come to see them next year and baby must come too where the bonnie waterfalls sing forever and weave
such marvels of lace in shining veils. Oh, Baby, our hearts are hungry for the sight of your sweet face, for the touch of
your soft clinging hands and continually we pray God to bless you and keep you safe and well that you may come to behold all
this beautiful world. Here are some little flowers and wild rosebuds we found to-day, dewy with spray and foam of waterfalls,
but of for mama and papa send some sweet, sweet kisses of Baby's rosebud mouth, and a little curl from the bonnie shining
head I am anxious about John. The journey was hard for him, and he looks thin and pale and tired. He must not leave the mountains
until he is well and strong again. Do the best you can with the place until I can come to see about it. If all goes well with
you and baby I ought to stay 2 or 3 weeks here, but we will see. Dear mother, write a few lines about the baby every day.
If she needs me I will go home at once, but I think she will be very happy with you all the time. I forgot to get another
candle before everybody went to bed, so I have no more to write by. Goodnight. God bless you all. Louie Muir. Put a large
lump of camphor in the piano, the wardrobe, and my large boxes in John's room.