Letters to Rosebud: Nov 15, 1925

Dear Edith–

I got your letter yesterday so I am going to answer tonight.  Walter and I got Willie’s corn out in 3 days, so it wasn’t so very painful.  Now Fred Fryhling has a few acres that won’t come home alone, so I am going to start on that Tuesday.  Tomorrow I am helping Walter to pull his pump out; 120 feet deep.

I guess the people around here like you well enough.  You see they just had a peek, the most of them.

Chris Olsen’s boys were asking me if I expected to cook my own breakfast next summer.  They are about 10 and 12 years old, but I guess they are bright enough; in fact, a little too bright.  We won’t worry much about what people think.  I guess our people are about like those elsewhere.  Willie’s and Chris F’s were in Poplar today but came home about dark.  Little Bernice Kamp came with them home for a visit.  Oh yes: Walter said I had one fine girl.  So there.

Yes, dear, there are many things on this old earth we can’t understand, but as you say, when we get up there in glory, everything will be understood.

Let us always live our lives like each day was the last one and be ready to meet Jesus when he comes to bring us home.  Sometimes I think there are so many things I want done here on earth first, but I surely want to be ready to drop everything when Jesus comes.  I pray that God may grant us happiness here on earth, but we must not be tied to earthly things.  Sure I like happy people.  I like when everything sings with song, and laughter, and I am built on that order myself, only sometimes I get a blue streak.  Hope you can help to clear that away.

I know we understand one another, so I’m satisfied.  Expect to get a note from you before the end of the week; but you may look for me on Sunday if it don’t snow.

Till we meet again at 1:30 Sun.

Love from your


I’m sending that film in tomorrow so I expect to show you the result on Sunday.  I shot the balance of it up this afternoon at everything.  Most of my planning is about the price of wheat, and how many million there will be to blow up.  Still we won’t starve for a month, and after I should worry.  Then the grass will be green.  I’ll give you the rest of my foolishness when we meet again.

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