We staked him out the next night (the burro I mean, not Jack) and we all woke up half scared to death at the worst racket you ever heard in all your life. And what do you think it was? Nothing at all but that miserable burro braying.
Say, Pa, you know that quilt mother let me bring along, the one she said you and she had when you first got married? Well, do you s'pose she'd care if it was tore some? You see, on the way out the burro ran along a barb wire fence and tore it, the quilt I mean. Lots of the stuffing came out, but it don't show if you turn the tore place down.
This morning I woke up most froze, 'cause Billy crowded me clear off the bed and out on to the ground. It's sure great to sleep out of doors and see the stars and things. We put a hair rope in the foot of the bed last night. Gee, but Jack jumped high when his bare feet hit it. He thought it was a tarantula.
My, I wish we could stay here a year.
Lovingly,
Dick.
P. S. The little red ants got into our condensed milk and spoiled it; leastways there's so many ants we can't separate the ants from the milk. Billy left the hole in the top of the can open.
Camp Roosevelt, September 9th.
Dear Pa: You know Billy's dog Spot? Well, Billy said there was a wildcat about camp, 'cause he saw the tracks. So I went down to a house below on the creek and borrowed a steel trap they had. It was a big one with sharp teeth on the jaws.
I wanted to set it on the ground, but Billy he says, "No, sir; set it on the log acrost the creek, 'cause the cat would walk on the log and couldn't help getting caught.