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May 14, '26.
Dear Comrade:
You will remember having written to John Macy several years ago, drawing his attention to the fact that he had been overlooking the poetry of the Little Buffalo.
Well, all things come to them as loves the Lord. John wrote me glowing a week ago about my review of his WORLD LITERATURE, and said extremely magnolient things about my poamspoems, especialtiouslyespecially about the WARS. He said, among other debris, that I had made trees bloom, etc. as no other poet in our time and few in any time had done. The words is not exackexact, but it was even more flatteningflattering to me as a poatpoet. Or did I tell you all this, and how he wished to add to my fragmentfragrant laurels, the greens of his own numble admiration? Them is almost exacklyexactly his langwidgelanguage, though he didn't stipulate greens.
I've just hearnheard from him again, and he says that he is literary adviser of the new firm of William Morrow & Co. Inc.; that Morrow wants me to contrackcontract for a prose book on the Indian, and will I let them send an outline of what they want diddone and also their proposition.
I don't know as I had oughterought to, and ImeI'm putting it up to Latham. But it looks good. They have just contracktulatedcontracted with Rupert Hughes for a biography of Washington's life! Washington you will remember was the father of 100 million people.
That's a lot!
Lots of love,
John
Macy is also putting me in his new school book on American Lit.