Transcription:
2 its rosy purple dress I am writing this woody gospel letter. I never before knew the virtues of Sequoia juice. Seen? with
sun- beams in it, its color is the most royal of all royal purples No wonder the Indians instinctively drink it for they know
not what . I wish I was so drunk Sequoical that I could preach the green brown woods to all the juiceless world, descending
from this divine wilderness like a John Baptist eating Douglass Squirrels wild honey or wild anything, saying, Repent for
the Kingdom of Sequoia is at hand. There is balm in these leafy Gileads; for deleted pungent burrs living King-juice for all
defrauded civilization; for sick grangers politicians, no need of Salt Riales, sick or successful. Come suck Sequoia be saved.
Douglas Squirrel is so pervaded with rosin burr juice his flesh can scarce be eaten even by mountaineers no wonder he is so
charged with magnetism one of the little lions ran across my feet the other day as I lay resting under a fir the effect
9189 3 was a thrill like a battery shock. I would eat him no matter how rosing for the light illegible he holds. I wish
I could eat wilder things, think of the grouse with balsam scented crop stored with spruce buds. The wild sheep full of glacier
meadow grass, daisies illegible the bear burly brown as Sequoia, eating pine-burs wasps stings all - then think of the soft
lighteningless poulice-like pop reeking upon town tables. No wonder cheeks legs become flably fungoid. I wish I were wilder
so bless Sequoia I will be. There is at least a punky Spark in my heart it may blaze in this Autumn gold. fanned by the King.
Some of my grandfathers must have been born on a muirland for there is heather in me, tinctures of log juices, that send me
to Cassippe? , ooz through all my veins impelling me unhaltingly the deeper danker the illegible .