[Here follow details concerning one paternal and one maternal aunt,
which, though picturesque, would better be omitted. It is to be
noted, however, that in this simple homely narrative of his
ancestors (which, by the way, gives a vivid picture of the early
pioneer days) and later in his own personal history, there is no
attempt to conceal or gloss over weaknesses or shortcomings; all
is set down with engaging candor.--C. B.]


Father's sister Abby married a maternal cousin, John Kelly. He was
of a scholarly turn. He worked for Father the year I was born, and
I was named after him. I visited him in Pennsylvania in 1873, and
while there, when he was talking with me about the men of our family
named John Burroughs, he said, "One was a minister in the West, one
was Uncle Hiram's son, you are the third, and there is still another
I have heard of,--a writer." And I was silly enough not to tell him
that I was that one. After I reached home, some of my people sent
him "Winter Sunshine," and when he found that I was its author, he
wrote that he "set great store by it." I don't know why I should
have been so reticent about my books--they were a foreign thing, I
suppose; it was not natural to speak of them among my kinsfolk.


[In this connection let me quote from an early letter of Mr.
Burroughs to me. It was written in 1901 after the death of
his favorite sister: "She was very dear to me, and I had no
better friend. More than the rest of my people she aspired
to understand and appreciate me, and with a measure of success.
My family are plain, unlettered farmer folk, and the world in