I AM sick. I have been sick since day before yisterday. I have a high fever. My head bothers me. I cant rite. Here is another letter I got from poor Jobe. Oh! how I wish he was here. I know he would care for me and watch over me and do for me while Ime sick. Read his letter and return it. They seem so near to me. I havent been able to be out of bed much to-day. If Jobe was only out of that dreadful place.
JOBE’S THIRD LETTER.
Cleveland Work-house,
Cleveland, O., March 9, 1896.
To Betsy Gaskins.
Dear Wife:—I got your letter yisterday. I cant tell you how I felt when I read of them a puttin you out.
Betsy, I little thought, the day you stood beside me and become my wife, that the time would come when you would have to sleep outdoors in the big road.
I felt then, Betsy, as though I was strong enough, and God knows I was willin, to provide a home for you as long as we both lived. Dont blame me, Betsy. Ive done the best I could. You know Ive worked hard, and we have lived savin, but by some unknown reason all I have aimed is gone. Mr. Richer has $3,800 of it. Ive done the best I could.
I have to work hard here in this place, but Ime not complainin, nor wouldent complain if I was gittin paid for what work I do, so that I could help you.
