A lawyer by the name of Wigonton or Wigleton, a graduate of Madison, resides in Snellings. I suppose you know him.
I am your friend,
John Muir.
920 Valencia St.,
San Francisco, April 24th, 1869.
I enclose at last the name of the big orange book. Either Paqot & Co. or Grégoire & Co. will import it for Mr. Carr at the price he named,—for less if intended for the library.
I thought you would have been to make at least one of your small businesslike calls to see me ere this, but I suppose the office and conventions and your farm leave you precious little time. Your days all go by in little beats and bits, while you move so fast you are nearly invisible.
Had a moment’s talk with the Doctor. Am glad he is looking so much like himself again. The summer is coming. Don’t know how it will be spent.
Did you hear the Butlers the other day? Glassy leaves tilted at all angles.
Cordially yours,
John Muir.
Seven miles north from Snellings,