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letterhead Dec 18, 1893. My dear Mr Muir: I am only now really settled down at home for a stay of a few weeks. I wanted
to have sent to you long ago the book I mail now and which you kindly illegible ented to accept from me Laurier's poems. There
are in Laurier such wonderful odors of pine, and hay, and salt sands and cedar, and corn, and such whisperings of Eolian stra
illegible es and every out-door sound - I think you would have had great joy in one another's personal acquaintance. And this
makes me think how much I have in yours. Your face and voice, your true, rich words, are close to my senses now as I write,
and I cry hungrily for more. The snow is on us everywhere now,