Woke up this morning thinking of her and enjoying the sight of the dawn light on the snow peaks of the Dolomites. Flowers stayed nice all the way to Gibraltar. Expects to feel up to going to Venice soon. Willie [Stout #1271]
Appreciates her letter. She mustn't worry. Lost fifteen pounds, from 126 to 111, and is still weak but nausea gone. Will surely recover faster now. P.S.: While in bed, kept thinking about old friends—in the words of the hymn, "whom I have loved long since, and lost awhile." Willie [Stout #1591]
[Written beneath the cover picture of Canterbury Cathedral:] A bulwark of civilization for more than thirteen centuries. [Written under printed greeting inside:] He is still her bishop, though retired. [Written on left side, opposite printed greeting:] Has been rereading the Venerable Bede. Seem to be nearing a world lacking Christianity, which will mean putting out the light, leaving nothing but darkness and misery. Willa Cather [Stout #1651]
Appreciates his Christmas letter about his missionary travels in western Nebraska. Wonderful to think of this being done when the light is so dimmed in the world. Often thinks about Grace Church and her confirmation there. Hand collapsed shortly after Christmas, when she was happily working on something new. Inflamed sheath of the large tendon of the right thumb. Knows there are rumors in Red Cloud that her entire right arm is paralyzed, but that is not true. When people stop taking pleasure in other people's misfortunes there will not be any more wars. Willa Cather [Stout #1662]
Appreciated his piece on Fred Maurer in the newspaper. Is thankful for it and will put it in her scrapbook. Sat near the Maurer brothers in Red Cloud High School and saw them struggle with poor reading light and inadequate clothes. They were not dealt a fair hand in life. Kept in touch with Fred through letters to the Gurney girl who cared for him, but stopped after she died. Willa Cather
Roses and hollyhocks are blooming, and the goldenrod on the cliff plays beautifully against the violet sea. The moon has tracked through the sky the last week until it seemed to rise out of the sea right in front of them, looking like a dented copper cook pot as it became gibbous. The streak of light from it looked like a footpath from moon to cliff. Have had rainy nights and bright days. The grass has greened, and the monkshood provides a purple border to the gray house. Warm weather brings them out to their chairs after dinner. Have had no need for a fire for a week. Ralph and Mrs. Beal are cleaning while she writes in the attic. The proofs of the new book were read last week. Went to Bright Angels on Saturday, but no twin was there with them. Oh, how they are missed. Misses Bromhall, Jordan, and Glissing send regards. They must come again before something monumental happens in their lives, like a marriage. The visit will happen if they all wish it. Perhaps next time it should be August, when the water has warmed and the whales appear. Were looking for their boat from the shore the day they departed, but couldn't see it. Maybe their parents could join them next time. Going to Southern Head if the weather holds tomorrow, and will remember their time there together. Aunt Willie.
