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Sunday, Apr. 30th, 1876. My dear Mr. Muir: It is a long long time since I have written to you, but I am not going to make
any excuses. My winter has been so full of trouble that it is excuse enough. I hear of you now and then, in a different character
than I have known you - in that of a lecturer, do you like it? Somehow I think you are changed. I am afraid a life in the
city fogs and smoke is not good for you. Am I mistaken? It is so long ago that you asked me about your book, but I could not
give an opinion. I know really so little about it; of course by this time it is nearly out. I have not seen a notice of it,
so suppose it has not been given to the public yet. Speaking of books, I got Joaquin's lately and read it. It was so exactly
like him that I had to write him a line about it, and yesterday brought me an answer. He is still in New York, and says that
his last letter from Charlie says he is coming home soon. I have not heard from C.W. S toddard for a long time, and do not
know anything about him. We are beginning to look a little fresh and show signs of spring. How strange it must seem to you,
who are in full spring costume now How full of promise the spring is really it is the most charming time of all the year.
Do you ever see Mrs. Day? I think not, as she does not speak of meeting you. You would like her, I am sure, if you knew her
better; poor girl, she has had much trouble and is very quiet, I believe. Do write me a letter of the old sort, full of the
freshness of the high mountains, for I faint here shut in from all freedom, and nearly covered up with heavy clouds of trouble.
I long to run away from it all, but the braver way is to stay and fight it out. We talk of California continually, but a
visit there seems very far off just now. If we could only go out for next winter, what a pleasure it would be Yours with
best regards, Anne W. Cheney