Typed Manuscript, 42 pp (paginated 2-43), 4to, [New York, c.1928], being the original manuscript to Miller's essay, "Gliding into the Everglades," with annotations in pen and pencil throughout, pages soiled and toned, edges creased with some loss at upper left corner; with Autograph Manuscript, 1 p, 4to, n.p., [c.1977], identifying the above manuscript as having been written in 1928 just after a visit to Florida with Joe O'Regan and Ned Schnellock seeking jobs during the real estate boom, page thumbed, creased at corners with some loss.
An early work of Miller's detailing a trip from New York to Florida with two friends. Miller writes of traveling through the deep south before stopping in Jacksonville. The search for work was futile, however, and soon Miller and his friends found themselves in jail on vagrancy charges: "We went down the hall to our haven of refuge. We opened a huge door and found ourselves in mephitic gloom. There were groans and coughs from Stygian shades. A prostrate form caused us to stumble. A thick volley of oaths assailed us. Out of the depths of the gloom a shade approached, carrying a quantity of newspapers. It begged for a cigarette. We fumbled for one, groped for his hand and placed it cautiously in a sweaty palm. We saw an ember float away, then sink to the floor. We could hear newspapers being shuffled about. With a little groping among these snoring cadavers, wrapped in wads of newspaper, we managed to find an empty bench for ourselves...But in a few minutes we were on our feet again. Neither of us could tolerate it. We didn't mind the bench, the huddled forms that reminded us of a morgue, nor the dank chill of the place - but the odor! My God, what a stench! It was frightful. Not a window was open to ventilate a room occupied by fifty sleeping men who hadn't had a bath in God knows when. Nearly every one removed his shoes. It was like lifting the lid from a garbage can on a hot August day in a blazing noon-day sun. So foul was it that we almost vomited. We stole out as quietly as we could. At least the rain was sweet and clean...." Miller returned home when a family member wired him money; he never did see the Everglades.