LETTERS ON AN
ELK HUNT

Photograph courtesy of Clyde Stewart

CONTENTS.

LETTERS ON AN ELK HUNT

By a Woman Homesteader

I

CONNIE WILLIS

Burnt Fork, Wyo., July 8, 1914.

Dear Mrs. Coney,—

Your letter of the 4th just to hand. How glad your letters make me; how glad I am to have you to tell little things to.

I intended to write you as soon as I came back from Green River, to tell you of a girl I saw there; but there was a heap to do and I kept putting it off. I have described the desert so often that I am afraid I will tire you, so I will leave that out and tell you that we arrived in town rather late. The help at the hotel were having their supper in the regular dining-room, as all the guests were out. They cheerfully left their own meal to place ours on the table.

One of them interested me especially. She was a small person; I couldn’t decide whether she was a child or a woman. I kept thinking her homely, and then when she spoke I forgot everything but the music of her voice,—it was so restful, so rich and mellow in tone, and she seemed so small for such a splendid voice. Somehow I kept expecting her to squeak like a mouse, but every word she spoke charmed me. Before the meal was over it came out that she was the dish-washer. All the rest of the help had finished their work for the day, but she, of course, had to wash what dishes we had been using.

The rest went their ways; and as our own tardiness had belated her, I offered to help her to carry out the dishes. It was the work of only a moment to dry them, so I did that. She was so small that she had to stand on a box in order to be comfortable while she washed the cups and plates.

“The sink and drain-board were made for real folks. I have to use this box to stand on, or else the water runs back down my sleeves,” she told me.

My room was upstairs; she helped me up with the children. She said her name was Connie Willis, that she was the only one of her “ma’s first man’s” children; but ma married again after pa died and there were a lot of the second