My dear Edith,

Well, I got home a couple of hours ago, and as it is mail day tomorrow I am sending you a chapter.

I started for home at 9 a.m. when Rev. Nielsen stoped me and got me to stay until noon; then he rode with me as far as Bainville on his way to Kenmare.

Really had lots of time to see you, but I said last night that I was going right home, “og sall er jeg bange for dim Frue alligevel.”*

We stopped in Fairview and bought some grapes of your friend to eat on the way.  Then Rev. N. gave lunch in Bainville, so I am not starving yet.  Tomorrow I am going to take that kink out of my back by picking corn “if it don’t snow.”  Do you know the road is still muddy in Dane Valley.  I guess we will get rich next year; hope not.  I can’t stand prosperity.  I might buy an airplane and fall down and break my neck.

My Mother told me she would like to have you come and see her any time you feel lonesome, and of course you can run up here some evening for coffee, too.  “Madam Brew” is always in sight.  I still have those two pieces of cake you left here Saturday.  Pretty soon they will be in a condition so they will keep forever, so you know there is always something in the house.  Enough paper wasted for foolishness, but that is the way I am set together, only awful serious sometimes.

I am just as happy as I can be.  All the blue things I talked about last nite don’t amount to a hill of beans any more;  knowing that you love me, and that nothing shall ever part us.  You just do some planning on your house.  I’ll get a line on all I can, and we will make a real love nest.

I’ll be looking for a letter on Saturday.  I’ll be in Sidney again in November “if it don’t snow.” Must try my radio now.  Should greet you from the cat.  Expect to hear how Dane Valley feels about their future resident.

Love from Immanuel

*could not get a clear translation; seems to be something about “I am…dim, Lady,….”(perhaps just a reference to being tired and needing to go home)