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320 West 56 St. Oct. 11, 1908 My Dear Miss Muir. It is with sorrow that I must tell you of the death of my dear uncle,
Mr. James Merriam. I know that you and your father cared for him too - as who did not, why know him? While in the Catskills
last August he took cold which developed into inflammatory rheumatism settling especially in the joints. The shock and the
agony of the rough journey in tho bottom of a spring wagon 1'or ten miles and then in the baggage car to tho city were more
than even his wonderful stitution could withstand. Ho was taken at first to the hospital, but was finally able to be moved
to his apartment where ho lived with his son's family. He was delighted to be at home amid the loved surroundings. The family
were all able to be with him, one daughter being summoned from England in time to be a great comfort to her father during
the last weeks. The dear uncle grew gradually weaker until, after two days of unconsciousness, he left us Sunday morning.
We cannot wish him back much as we loved him, for he had for some time longed to go, and we know he could never have been
well again. He had been so patient in his intense suffering. My uncle had often read me parts of your Letters so I almost
fool as if I knew you. I hope you quite strong again now. Of course I have long known your father through his writings.
To all who knew him my uncle has left beautiful memories. I am hoping I have the right address. I found it on an addressed
envelope in my uncle's desk. Very sincerely yours, Edith Merriam