Chapter 7

We had a merry supper; even Haynes became cheerful, and there was no lagging next morning when we started for home. When people go on elk hunts they are very likely to return in tatters, so I am going to leave it to your imagination to picture our appearance when we drove up to the rear of the hotel about sundown. Our friend Mrs. Hutton came running to meet us. I was ashamed to go into her house, but she leaned up against the house and laughed until tears came. "_What_ chased you?" she gasped. "You must have been run through some of those barbed wire things that they are putting up to stop the German army."

Mrs. Hutton is a little lady who bolsters up self-respect and makes light of trying situations, so she "shooed" us in and I sneaked into my room and waited until Clyde could run down to the store and purchase me a dress. I feel quite clean and respectable now, sitting up here in my room writing this to you. I will soon be at home now. Until then good-bye.

E. R. S.

XIV

THE MEMORY-BED

October 25.

DEAR, DEAR FRIEND,--

Can you guess how happy I am? Be it _ever_ so humble there is no place like home.

It is so good to sit in my creaky old rocker, to hold Junior, to feel his dear weight; to look at my brave little mother. I do not like the "in-law." She is _mother_ to me. Under the east window of our dining-room we have a flower-bed. We call it our memory-bed because Clyde's first wife had it made and kept pansies growing there. We poured the water of my little lost boy's last bath onto the memory-bed. I keep pansies growing in one side of the bed in memory of her who loved them. In the other end I plant sweet alyssum in memory of my baby. A few pansies and a tuft of sweet alyssum smiled a welcome, though all the rest of my flowers were dead. We have a hop-vine at the window and it has protected the flowers in the memory-bed. How happy I have been, looking over the place! Some young calves have come while we were gone; a whole squirming nest full of little pigs. My chickens have outgrown my knowledge. There is no snow here at all. Our experiences on our trip seem almost unreal, but the wagon-load of meat to be attended to is a reminder of realities. I have had a fine trip; I have experienced about all the human emotions. I had not expected to encounter so many people or to get the little inside glimpses that I've had, but wherever there are human beings there are the little histories. I have come home realizing anew how happy I am, how much I have been spared, and how many of life's blessings are mine. Poor Mrs. Louderer, childless and alone, openly envying Mrs. O'Shaughnessy her babies! In my bedroom there is a row of four little brown heads asleep on their pillows. Four precious kiddies all my own. And not the least of my blessings, _you_ to tell my happiness to. Has my trip interested you, dear friend? I _hope_ you liked it. It will lose a little of its charm for me if you find it uninteresting.

I will write you again soon.

Your happy friend, E. R. S.

THE END

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

Minor changes have been made to correct obvious typesetters' errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words and intent.

End of Project Gutenberg's Letters on an Elk Hunt, by Elinore Pruitt Stewart