I felt at home with Congar and at once took possession of his premises and all that in them is. We drove down through the settlements eastward and saw the best orange groves and vineyards, but the mountains I as usual met alone. Although so gray and silent and unpromising they are full of wild gardens and ferneries, and lilyries,--some specimens ten feet high with twenty lilies big enough for bonnets. The main results I will tell you some other time, should you ever have an hour’s leisure. I go north to-day, by rail to Newhall, thence by stage to Soledad, and on to Monterey, where I will take to the woods and feel my way in free study to San Francisco. May reach the city about the middle of next month. Heard through your factor here that Miss Powell is worse and that you would not be down soon. I _received_ your letter and postal, also the letters you thought I had lost, via one from Salt Lake for which I sent and one from Yosemite which Black forwarded. With love to all I am ever Yours cordially, J. M. 1419 Taylor St., San Francisco, September 3d, [1877.] I have just been over at Alameda with poor dear old Gibbons. You have seen him, and I need give no particulars. “The only thing I’m afraid of, John,” he said, looking up with his old child face, “is that I shall never be able to climb the Oakland hills again.” But he is so healthy and so well cared for we will be strong and hope that he will. He spoke for an hour with characteristic unselfishness on the injustice done Dr. Kellogg in failing to recognize his long-continued devotion to science, at the botanical love-feast held here the other night. He threatens to write up the whole discreditable affair, and is very anxious to obtain from you a copy of that Gray letter to Kellogg which was not delivered. I had a glorious ramble in the Santa Cruz woods and have found out one very interesting and picturesque fact concerning the growth of this sequoia. I mean to devote many a long week to its study. What the upshot may be, I cannot guess, but you know I am never sent away empty. I made an excursion to the summit of Mt. Hamilton in extraordinary style, accompanied by Allen, Norton, Brawley, and all the lady professors and their friends. A curious contrast to my ordinary _still-hunting_. Spent a week at San José; enjoyed my visit with Allen very much. Lectured to the faculty on Methods of Study without undergoing any very great scare. I believe I wrote you from Los Angeles about my Pasadena week. Have sent a couple of letters to the “Bulletin” from there, not yet published. I have no inflexible plans as yet for the remaining months of the season, but Yosemite seems to place itself as a most persistent candidate for my winter. I shall soon be in flight to the Sierras or Oregon. I seem to give up hope of ever seeing you calm again. Don’t grind too hard at those Sacramento mills. Remember me to the Doctor and Allie. Ever yours cordially, JOHN MUIR.