May 6, 1929. Miss Jean Ironside, 39 Gramercy Park, New York City. Dear Kid: Yours of April 28th came for a birthday present. Was glad to hear from you and know that your battle on comas must be very easy now. You have had such intensive drill. Bye and bye, I’ll be plum scared to even write to you. On my birthday, we christened the Patio, cooking beef steak over charcoal and having brown beans boiled in a big iron pot. Mr. Beil and his wife were here (he is a Montana man) and he made sourdough biscuits. I made the birthday cake and we celebrated four birthdays – Wallace Risley, Ted Taylor, Charlie Beil and Nancy Russell. Some bunch, eh? We had a real lovely time in spite of my heart- aches over the memory of what Charlie and I had planned with that same patio. I thought I’d choke for a while but a fellow can get over anything, I guess. I do not know what you are talking about when you say that man wanted a “cook”. Did you have an affair and keep the secret from me? You may yet come into my home with a ready-made family. Gosh, it would be funny if you married a widower with a big bunch of kiddies. You’d find that life was very full, if you did that stunt! I’m certainly surprised at your friend and her husband. Some folks don’t mind though. They just play around and change off and then decide the old love is best after all. You and I are made kind of different. My work on the Biography is sure stopped. Too many people around. It can’t be done until I get along somewhere and I don’t know where that will be unless I get on a train and start globe-trotting. I am enclosing a little check that you may have pleasure in using in Sweden, Switzerland or some other far off place on the Globe. I wish you all the joy this trip can give a girl who has worked and planned and earned it. Love to you from every- body here at “Trail’s End.” [Transcribed by Lauren B. Gerfen, 2012-11-02]