The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1903-01-30

| lueApreSSlDiy HapPy. we nave VI
course, disadvantages to contend
with. Our home, as you know, is
practically on the edge of the desert.
Behind our house, which is quite
small, are few bare hills, but the
landscape is dreadfully monotonous.
This is not the part of the country
where the orange groves are. 1t is
hard to make living from the land
and we have to make the most of a
very few comforts; but it is lots of
fun, in way. My darling works
| from early to late and 1 have to do
all the housework. Imagine me! My
hands are the chief sufferers. But
we never see a living SOUL mean
any one who matters-so l don't
mind that. Our nearest neighbors
are ten miles off, but as they are per-
fectly horrible the distance is rather
an advantage than otherwise. The
| life is not exactly romantic. 1t is a
grim reality. 1t is very lonely and
very hard. So much the better,
though, for proving my theory, which
you always laughed at. We are more
in love with each other than ever.
So long as we have each other, what
does anything else matter?" [Etc.]
Letter 9-"When you write next
tell me what frocks are being worn
and describe all the pretty hats you
see in the shops. 1t seems dreadful
extravaganza to hear of you paying
$500 for q gown! l can't believe /
ever did such things. When 1 read
your letter I said at once, Where
can she get the money from" 1
have two cotton gowns and big
straw hat Tin which look fright,
and these will have to last long
time because we are dreadfully poor.
Of course L still have all the frocks
1 had when we were married, but one
couldn't wear such things here.
Don't think am grumbling, dearest,
but sometimes / remember what you
used to say and wonder whether my
| darling husband will not begin to
love me less when L go around all
day looking so different from the
smart young lady of the old days.
But this is very wrong and very fool
| ish for me. He is the most devoted
and loving husband in the world"
IA young wife's opinion of her hus-
band follows.
Letter 10.-"Your long letter was
real delight. 1t was sweet of you
| to tell me about the dances and the
| aters. What L miss above everything
| is a woman friend with whom could
have a good chat-and perhaps a
good cry" The end of the letter
rather shaly.l
| Letter LII have not written be-
fore because there really was nothing
to say. We cannot afford to go any
where and one day on the farm is
| just like another. We both find it
very monotonous, but we grow fond
er of each other every day. My dar-
ling is so thoughtful and kind. He
wants me to agree that he shall
work out for little while and so
save enough money to send me
east for rest and change. He keeps
on referring to this but of course T
will not hear of it Many, many
thanks for the fashion papers, over
which J. have spent lots of happy
hours. I am now reduced to one
workday dress, but am making an
other. 1t is quite an experiment, be-
cause L know nothing about dress
making and L hate sewing. And, oh,
| dear, there is so much mending to
do! We live in mended things. The
crops have turned out badly, and we
hardly know where the next meal is
coming from! You will not be able
| to realize what that means. [ don't
mind for myself, but 1 am dreadfully
| sorry for my husband. He is the best
| and dearest of men. He suffers much
more than do because I have not got
| cause the life is so different from
| what expected or from what 1 had
been brought up to. Imagine -mush
| and bacon three times a day-with
| bread baked by me-my love always
toasts his. He says he likes toast,
but know it is because he can't eat
my bread! All, dearest, dearest! I
sit here and see the wooden walls and
floor and the patched-up things that
have to do out here, and the pile of
socks and stockings that has got to
| be darned and washed, and through
the window the dusty, dreary land
| scape--
81 think have been crying. Only
| a little. But 1 am ashamed. See,
brush the tears away. After all, 1
have the only thing that really counts
| my husbands love.
Letter 12.-"Only just a line to tell
you some bad news. The mortgage
ON the farm has been foreclosed Ct
think that's the right eXpression),
and we have got to go. Where? Who
| knows? First, L think, to Los An
| geles. My husband hopes he may be
able to get work there, but he is 60
| ing to try also at Pasadena, where a
friend of his owns some livery stables.
That is very pretty part of the coun-
| try, and 1 should look forward to the
change, if it were not for the terrible
anxiety of finding ourselves without a
home and practically without money.
My husband begged me again and
| again to allow him to borrow suffi-
| Gent money to send me home at all