Decoration Day Payette, Idaho May 30, 1908 My dear Bertie: I arrived here from Boise about 5:30 p.m. after about 3 hours ride through an irrigated country. The farm scenes were varied, stock raising, fruit raising, alfalfa growing and various other farm pursuits, all in full blast. The scene was quite a little out of the ordinary desert scenes I have been accustomed to during the last two weeks or more, and was quite refreshing, as compared to the great wastes of arid desert lands I saw in passing thru Wyoming. When I got to Payette, I found the weather quite cold, with a stiff breeze in full blast. In fact the wind was so strong that I think it has blown so many of my whiskers out, that I may not need to shave in the morning. In the hotel office there is quite a fine going in the stove. From appearances I am inclined to think I will spend a very quiet Sunday tomorrow, as the town is comparatively small, probably 3000 population. But I think I will be able to live thru it, and am so sorry I could not be near enough home to spend the time with you. This brings to my mind, that when I wrote you it was about 800 miles from Boise to Spokane by rail, that my information was incorrect and that the distance is about 500 miles instead. Had the distance from here been less I should have run home for Sunday, but as Payette is only about 70 miles from Boise, the jump is yet a little too great to make the run, and return for business Monday. But soon I will be near enough to make the run, and won’t I make a bee line for home! It seems to me now that when I do get back again, that I just can’t think of leaving you again. To me it seems indeed a hard stroke of fate, that my business should take me away from you for such long intervals. As soon as I got here I immediately went to the Post Office for the home letter, but found none here. But last night before packing my duds to leave Boise I wrote the Postmaster at Weiser, Ida., to send to me at Payette any mail at his office for me. So at this office I got your letter of the 28th addressed to Weiser. And I was so glad to hear from you, but was very much mystified by your reference to “leaving here soon.” By this remark I am completely mystified, and especially when you speak of not having been able to “pack up.” Are you contemplating a trip east, or what on earth do you mean? There seems to be a sad strain thru the entire letter, and really my dear my heart just ached for you, when I read how wretched you have been during my long absence. How can I even think of blaming you for being wretched, when you have told me how many things out of the ordinary have happened to you during my absence. This evening when I turned my eyes, as I do so often, toward the setting sun, and thought that out in the great space farther on, was the little trio, my dear wife and two little ones, out there all alone in a far off country, among strangers, and possibly at that moment needing my presence and help, I could not help the tears coming to my eyes as the fact, in all its seriousness, was impressed upon me. This was before I had opened your letter, and must have a premonition of the very sad and unusual lines from the one who has the right to expect all the help from me that I am able to give, both by material assistance and personal association as well. Now my dear, and shall I say homesick wife, tell me, do you think it wise for me to leave you alone, while I must take these long, far away trips to earn the necessities for your own and the little ones’ comfort? Or do you think I had better look near home for some line of business in which I can perhaps do as well, or nearly so, as at the present line? Further, if you are not as well as your letter may infer, and this inference is that you are far from a well woman, tell me truly, and if my presence is necessary I will at once come to you, just as fast as steam and turning wheels can carry me. My first duty is to those nearest and dearest to me than all else in the world and if you need me, dear, tell me so at once, and this trip can wait to be finished at some other time. I will probably be at Weiser about Wednesday, June 3, and if you need me, write it out in just so many words and wire me or write me as the circumstances may require. I need not tell you that I join you in the anxiety I know you must feel about the scarlet fever being in Caughlin’s family, and it seems to me that they might not subject you to any unnecessary danger by coming into our home under the circumstances. They were not so busy before they had the fever, as I recall you told me they had not called on you, and now under such dangerous conditions I should have thought they would have had more consideration for our dear little baby boy than to have come into our home at this time and possibly carry this dread disease to him, and maybe the result be our loss of him. I think it is preposterous and even if you extended them the neighborly courtesy of the use of your bath room, they should have been ashamed to have accepted, owing to former aloofness, so far as sociability was concerned. If Hanson should have scarlet fever, I should most surely blame it to their absolute nonconsideration of our interests, and their own selfishness, to use our home under such circumstances. If you invited them, I think it very unthoughtful of our own interests, and had I been at home, should have advised against it. However, as the deed is done, I shall hope and pray no harm may come of it. I shall be very anxious to hear from you in response to my inquiries in this letter, and shall look for a thorough explanation of the mysterious reference to “pulling out of here before long.” As this is your first reference to anything along this line, it came to me as a bolt from a clear sky, and without any previous intimation, I of course am, as usual, “dense” as to your meaning. I will have all kinds of thoughts racing thru my “noodle” until you enlighten me, and shall not be relieved until you write me making a full explanation of your unusual reference to a possible, “I don’t know what.” How I wish you could have the degree of good health I am enjoying so you would be capable of bearing your unusual burden. I am so glad to hear Hanson weighs so much as 28# and Carol 53#. This all sounds good to me, and it now looks like they were both getting ready to “grow up with the country.” Now my dear wife, don’t allow your usually good nerve to leave you. You have been brave so long, and now that I am getting nearer and nearer every day, don’t give up the ship, and if you need me to help you steer her into a safe harbor until the “storm” blows over, just say the word and I will be at your side and stand by you until the last cloud has rolled by, and we can see clear sailing. Now with my very dearest heart’s love to you, with a yearning for my dear ones I can’t describe to you, and lots of love, hugs and kisses for the little ones, I am lovingly and longingly, Your husband, G. W. D.