Default Metadata, or override by section

  Guntersville (the Metropolis of) Marshall Co. Alabama

(Meltonsville is 10 miles North East of this village at the extreme southern point or great bend of the Tennessee river, and was never anything but a post office—Willwell Farm is 3 miles from that office—near the "lordly" and beautiful Tennessee, in a populous little valley. The home of the rude "Philosopher" who out-natures nature. Latitude 34 ½ precisely. This is a beautiful country, and the climate excellent.

Lack of culture and the love of the ideal in any sense other than the old and barbarous is the main defect. Orthodoxy flourishes withe​ with​ the usual lack of flowers or fruit. This is the   "Sunny South" indeed. Winter here is a holiday or treat. This county is composed of mountains and their table lands about 400 feet above the valleys, and valleys sometimes regularly oblong and sometimes crooked and branching. The Tennessee dips in like a crooked arm and scoops off the North West quarter of the county as if it would steal that fraction and some sister counties to give to the state of its own name.

The white population predominates here enough to free us from the unpleasantness experienced in other parts of our state. Many candidates for offices here now. The "philosopher" too quiet and impartial to ever be a party man, thinks   that in some of the cases A ought not to have the office—because B wants it, and B ought not to have it—because A wants it, and both ought not to have it—because neither is fit for it. This is a queer letter to come from a sober, studious thoughtful man—so careful in all business matters, but I have so written it, both for information and to amuse my friend Mr. Whitman who has done me the greatest honor of my life.

The book (of Burroughs') and the packet of letter, poem, and picture came, as the result of the only approach I have ever made or expect to make to any noted man. I am delighted and grateful beyond the power of words of mine to express.   I suspect the most notable point in Burroughs' book is page 42 middle and only complete paragraph—about criticism——

I write by night at a relatives​ relative's​ house near [illegible] and think I must send a dollar to pay for the book, and return those stamps 44 cts (or value in scrips unless; manageable)—it looks too much like you wanted to square with me for that gold dollar, which I want to represent the lifting of the veil between two "natural" and warm hearts.

Let me take the will for the deed—as to the book. Leaves of Grass ought to be worth $50 to as poor a man as I.

Please send a card before long—stating your health.

I know the style of my letters is queer, but if you had thought them absurd or insincere you would not have answered.

J. N. Johnson