Minnie tells me about her mother (Eliza Brewer Frey) driving her to Sherman early in the morning with a team of horses. Eliza visits with Mrs. Parkerson and then observes Minnie in her school before returning to Manhattan.
Addressed to Mr. Ward C. Griffing, 25th Company, 164th Depot Brigade, Camp Funston, Kansas
Monday evening, September 16, 1918
Why Ward, I must have sent you regular volumes. I just now noticed my paper pile looked low and when I counted, I found that I have only five sheets left. I bought this box of stationary just before I came up here and you are the only one I have written to with the exception of a couple of letters I sent home.
School just went fine today. It’s getting better all the time. Mama visited my school awhile this afternoon and I know she was awful well pleased. I’m anxious to hear what she has to say. I have the dearest little primary students.
Mama and I started up here early this morning way before daylight. Papa put the tung in the buggy so we drove a team. I could hardly see to drive for the first five miles, it was so dark. I got here in time to ring half past eight bell. I was sure glad. Mama spent the morning and took dinner at Parkerson’s.
It was all just lots of fun and I didn’t mind it a bit excepting Papa’s tire was absolutely ruined last evening. The chains chewed it so. It will cost Papa at least sixty dollars. But I would go three hundred such trips to get to see you. I didn’t get to talk to you much yesterday. I don’t know, I have been wanting to see you so much that I was just kind of overcome with being with you. I didn’t want to talk anyway. I wanted you to do all that. I wanted to hear what you had to say and then I can write you about all I know. I just love to hear you talk. Do you remember what I said one time about your voice? Maybe you don’t – it was a long time ago. But I haven’t changed my mind yet.
Ward, one of those letters you got last night or today, you had to pay extra postage for, didn’t you? I hope to goodness you never get it. I didn’t know at the time or rather didn’t think but I sent a letter to France Saturday for Mama and he told me it weighed just an ounce. That’s the limit and I know that letter weighed lots more. I wanted to say something about it yesterday but didn’t get a chance. I wanted to tell you, “For Goodness sake, don’t read part of it.” But you’ll understand the mood I was in and excuse me this time if I promise never to say anything like it again, won’t you? I know I never will because I know now the circumstances.
I got a letter today from you and Stella [Munger]. I wasn’t expecting them at all and was sure pleased to get them. I just read your letters over and over. I wish you could get off next Sunday. But I expect it will be at least another week from what you said yesterday. Come home as soon as you possibly can.
I thought the folks would probably leave me up here for the next six months before they would come for me again, but Mama said before she left that if it was very pretty weather, they may come after me. I’m going to find out and if our folks go up [to Camp Funston again], I’m sure going to try to get home.
I showed your picture to Mrs. Parkerson tonight and she certainly made a fuss over it. “Oh, such a fine manly boy as this is too fine to be used for a target” she said. And, “Well now Minnie, you can be glad you have this with you.” And it certainly didn’t take me long to tell her I was mighty glad. But Mrs. Parkerson is such a good woman. You were certainly right when you said she looked like a good old soul, for she certainly is. And always tries to make me look on the bright side. She is the only one I can talk to about you too, and I get so brimmed full I have to say something to somebody once in awhile. I’m so proud of you, and I’m so glad she is like she is.
I certainly hope and pray that you get in over at the College yet. I want you to, just so much. A fellow that’s along in College like you, that’s where they ought to be.
I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’m afraid you about drowned in that leaky tent last night. I hope you wrapped up in a half a dozen blankets and was alrght. Are you still feeling badly or is the worst yet to come? I’ll be mighty glad when you get out of that D. Camp. Please don’t misinterpret what I meant by that “D.” After I wrote it, it made me laugh but I didn’t mean a “worse word” even if it does look that way.
Say, in your next letter, tell me how long it takes my letters to get to you. It takes four or five days for your letters to get to me. The connections up this way are certainly bad.
I had your picture on my dresser but when I sat down here at the table to write, I moved it over here so I could have it right before me. I’ve been writing a few lines, then looking at you for a long time, until it is getting pretty late. And I never keep late hours anymore.
Well, good night lover, and may the best of luck be yours – not because I want to be selfish, but because you deserve it. – Minnie
P.S. Boy, I’m so glad you don’t smoke. It certainly does please me. Please make great effort to get in college.