Grandview, Mo.
May 17, 1911
Dear Bessie:
I am sitting up at the desk writing this and it makes me feel a lot more independent. Crutches are certainly the most inconvenient conveniences I have ever run up against. You've no idea how experience teaches sympathy. I have thought many a time that some of the antics of people on crutches were unnecessary to say the least. I don't think so now. It really takes an expert to accomplish anything with them. It is necessary for me to wear my uncle's overalls because I can't get my plaster cast through the leg of mine. He weighs 240 and a large part of his weight is around the waist. You can imagine the beautiful profile I make. I don't care for looks now though. I want to get out of bed and I'd almost wear a dress to do it.
I certainly thank you for the book you sent. It is fine. I haven't quite finished it yet. I sent you a copy of Life by Ethel. It is so good. I thought that I could not keep it all to myself. I had wrapped it for mailing when Ethel and Aunt Ella showed up. I hope you hadn't seen it. The center cartoon is particularly entrancing. I should certainly like the opportunity of being a joyrider. I really don't think I'd be one, but I'd just like to have the means to be one.
I was very glad to see Ethel and so I didn't attempt to remove her back hair as I had threatened to do. Anyway I don't believe I could have done it just yet so I let well enough alone. She was perfectly willing for me to try.
You said Frank was anxious to go to Mexico. You tell him he'd better stay out of Greaserdom right now anyway. If a fellow could go as the rearguard of a victorious American army it would be all right, but right now the chances are good that he'd stop a bullet. I am like Mark Twain. He says that if fame is to be obtained only by marching to the cannon's mouth, he is perfectly willing to go there provided the cannon is empty, if it is loaded he'd get over the fence and go home. Sometimes the cannon's breech is as dangerous as its mouth. A member of the Battery got his fingers connected with the breech block on one of those three-inch guns not long ago and left one of them in the gun. I think I shall quit the military stunt in June. My time is out then. I have been a member for six years and have had lots of fun, learned a little bit, and made some friends, so I guess I'd better quit while I am all in one piece. Out at Ft. Riley once while the outfit was out there, a shell exploded at the mouth of the gun and killed seven or eight who were standing too far front. So you see a person is not absolutely safe either in front or behind the gun. Mark's advice is best.
One of Mamma's cousins is visiting us now who was in the real Confederate Army. He was at the Battle of Vicksburg and Corinth and also up here at the Battle of Westport. He thinks that General Price was the greatest man that ever lived. Of all the hair-lifting war tales Cousin Will can sure contribute his share. It really seems funny that in this very country, even right where we live, people should have been afraid to go anywhere unless there were several together. Then maybe the Redlegs or Bushwhackers would kill them. Grandmother once routed a whole band of Indians with a big dog. She was all alone except for a negro woman and two of her children. These Indians told her they wanted honey and if she didn't give it, they would take it and her too. So they sharpened their knives on the grinding stone and then she turned loose a large dog. Away went Indians, some leaving their blankets. If I had been Grandma I'd have disappeared out the front way when they came up the back. But she didn't and finally made them go.
I guess you'll think this is a mighty tiresome attempt at a letter but it is the best I can do today. I read some Chinese poetry this morning and I guess that is the reason I can't do any better. It was rendered into English but even then it sounded as bad as the hen tracks they made for writing look. So if this is too dull to read, I hope you'll consider that you owe me a letter for it anyway.
I want to thank you again for The Mistress of Shenstone, as I sure enjoyed it and so did the rest of us.
I hope your calico chickens will be a success and I am really glad you didn't have to use that awful dip. Vivian has to dip chickens out here. I eat them. Well write when you can and if I land that machine I'll try and use it right.
Sincerely, Harry