"Your brother,
"George Holmes."
The following letter is one that is prized very much by Penloe. It came from the wife of a poor ranchman and bore the marks of its proximity to the wash-tub, the churn, a child's dirty finger marks, and the hot tears of a woman overcome with joy:
"Tanglewood Ranch, Orangeville ...
"Mr. Penloe:
"Dear Sir:—O, I have so much to say and don't know where to begin. I don't get any time to write, have been waiting for a spell, but don't get any, for one thing after another keeps crowding me. I have just wiped the suds from my hands, having left the wash-tub for a few minutes, saying I would not put off writing to you any longer.
"Well, we went to your meeting and never heard any one talk like you did before.
"My husband and I have not much learning, but you made it so simple and plain that we could not help understanding what you meant. I want to say how glad we both are that we went, because our lot in life has been dark and hard. I married my husband when a girl of seventeen. I knew so little, was so green, but was full of hope and expectations. What a hard experience I have had, for I have been married ten years and have six small children; so much sickness, so much hard work. O, dear! my life has been so hard. I cannot write any more now, as I must finish getting my washing out.
"Well, my clothes are on the line and I am going to take a few minutes' rest and write a little more. Yes, life has been hard. How little a poor ignorant girl thinks or knows what is before her when she gets married. My husband has felt all discouraged, so many babies, so much hard work, such hard times to get a dollar, always in debt to doctors; it made us both grow cross and cranky and just as soon die as live. Our love for each other grew cold, and the attraction we had for each other died out. I told my husband he must take me out somewhere or else I would go crazy. Every day the same thing over again from morning to night, tending babies, standing over a cook-stove, then over a wash-tub, then churning, no end of dish-washing and washing babies' clothes. I am going to churn now, when I take a rest again I will write more.
"Well, the butter has come, I will rest and write you more.