Transcription:
2 Letter of Mrs. Bidwell to John Muir, Feb. ll, 1879, continued the hymn she had either had me sing, or sung herself, every
day for weeks, Oh, what can you tell, little flower, little flower, Oh what can you tell little flower on the lea, The secret
of your sweet perfume Now whisper it to me. It is the love of God in Heaven The God who loves both you and me, And every day
I breathe His praise in fragrance on the lea. There was not another wild flower to be seen in the cemetery nor elsewhere,
and it seemed to me this was' truly a Heavenly messenger. Lucy would not trust it from her hands until she gave it me to put
in her trunk, and as I did so I felt that flower and child had preached one of the tenderest sermons l had ever heard. But
I must not extend my letter, for I find the opposite page written on, so must abruptly say adieu, and thanks for Glacier meadows,
in Scribner, which we all so enjoyed. Sincerely yours, A nnie K ennedy Bidwell.