July 31. 1916
Oh My Dear
There is not an honor in the world that potentates and powers could confer that I should value as what you offer me: the dedication of a book of yours. If I could choose one person of all I have ever heard to be spokesman for my own desired ends, my own ideals, it would be you. How did you ever think of so crowning me? [page 2]
Constantly the thought of you was with me in the days of the late (the last?) Progressive Convention. I missed you intensely -- even in the final dejection. The memory of those former days is nevertheless a possession to cherish. I find no refuge in Hughes, whose pronouncement as quoted in the Tribune is: "Anyone who supports me is supporting an out and out American policy and absolutely nothing else" -- The policy of the Southern United States is, as we known opposed to Child Labor Legislation, and has juggled with universal (?) manhood suffrage -- Mexican policies are also American policies -- and there are other Americanisms we do not advocate and <while> humanitarian, international [page 3] -isms we want supported <are> not yet included in Americanism. I shall ask McClurgs to send to your address at a book on:
Do not feel obligated to read it. I would rather you should write than read and neither when neither were better for you.
The bidding to come to your Cove is most alluring -- but as far as I see my lines are laid out here -- I am enjoying my grandson and a fine young man Mr. James of Evanston -- partly his comrade partly his tutor.
You will never know how you thrilled me with gratitude and pride, which was part humility, perhaps -- as knowing such a gift beyond desert -- I feel crowned and as if I had new motives to deserve. Yours with [written in the right margin] love beyond any expression of it <I have> ever made,
Mary H. Wilmarth.