My dear little Carol: I got your letter, you wrote me last Sunday, in todays mail, and I was so glad to hear from you. Mama had told me in her letters, of your fine work in school and I was so very proud to hear of your promotion! Besides, your deportment was very fine, too. If you keep on doing so well, I suspect you wont be long getting into the high school. Papa is very much pleased to hear these good things of his little girl, and hopes you may still get along so nicely. To night I went to see a man with seven big lions at one of the theaters. He played with them just like they were so many kittens. They did all kinds of stunts, and I thought how much you and little brother would have enjoyed seeing them. Maybe there may be something of this kind at home sometime, when I am there, and we will all go to see them. I think many times each day of you, little brother and dear mama, and wonder what you are all doing, while I am so far away. It rains very much in Portland, and the people here are nick-named “webfooters”, because there is so much rain. Almost every one carries an umbrella with them. The rains come up very quickly, and without umbrellas handy, one would get a wetting. I will be home now soon again, and will be so glad to see you all. It seems a long time since I left on this trip. Portland is called the “Rose City.” The people here raise great quantities of roses, and that is why they call this the “Rose City.” This is a much larger city than Spokane—and is about two and one half times larger, so you may get some idea how large it is. I hope you will write me often, for I am so pleased to know you can write so well. Now, with lots of hugs and kisses for you dear little brother and mama, and a sweet good night, from your loving Papa.