Appreciates the book of poems. Has been busy with the family reunion, but will leave tomorrow and enjoy reading sonnets all the way to the West Coast. Willa Cather [Stout #1788]
Heard St. Matthew's Passion yesterday, on Holy Thursday.�Glad she went to Wyoming; had a wonderful visit [with her brother Roscoe and his family].� Is going to Dr. Wade's church [Church of St. John the Evangelist] today; spoke with him this morning on the telephone.� Will telephone Mary Virginia.� Knopfs sent a beautiful plant for Easter.� Stenographer coming tomorrow to help her answer her accumulated mail.� Enjoyed seeing her [ mother ], Elsie, and Douglass, and will think of them on Easter. [P.S.] Dear Sister, might have left some things in the writing table in her cottage—please look.� Found Elsie's scissors in the bottom of her sewing bag.� Feels like such an bad guest! Willie
Has returned to Taos with Edith after days in the heat of Denver. Taos has very mild evenings and only brief periods of heat during the day. Fine horses are available; Edith is an accomplished rider, and Cather can get along well enough to handle irregular terrain. Is Douglass still coming north this July? How far? To Albuquerque? If it is possible to see him, would like to, but otherwise won't travel far, though if Edith is up to it they might drive near Espa�ola around the Rio Grande pueblos. Edith has to return to New York by July 25, and her holiday, though fascinating, has not been relaxing. When she leaves, Cather might travel to Lander, and will get to Red Cloud as some point. Hopes to convince mother to spend some time in Denver with her, since Elsie reports that she isn't in good health. Would like to be in Red Cloud for several weeks, but won't do it if no one wants her around. Regrets coming home the previous summer. Her very being seemed to annoy everyone. Douglass shouldn't think her too smug, it's just that writers have to promote themselves or forget about it. Doesn't self-promote near as much as most. Doesn't believe it would do family any good for her to give up, though quitting is tempting sometimes. Had a difficult winter and wrote very little, just two short stories [possibly "The Bookkeeper's Wife" and "The Diamond Mine"], and one of them was really weak. The death of Judge McClung and the marriage of Isabelle were big blows and gave her the unsettling sense of losing a home. Will survive, but is not too enthusiastic. Maybe going on trying after losing interest is a sign of character. Doesn't want to dwell on depressing facts, though. Why can't she and Douglass have fun together more? Yes, is difficult to be around, but any woman who has made good money in a business is difficult and she's no different. Nevertheless, the two of them still ought to enjoy one another's company, as they did in Denver the year before. Likes Douglass more than nearly everyone else, except when he's grumpy; and when he's grumpy, will just leave and accept it with detachment. Will, however, relish all positive feelings from her family, all of whom she likes very much, even more so now than when she was young and tried to change everybody. Still tends to believe in her own way of thinking first, but now tempers it with the knowledge of past errors. Has mellowed since last year. Three close friends died [?], and the family's displeasure last summer may have helped too. Is drained of spirit now--but that's bad for writing. Will probably never write well again. One needs to be transfixed with the material to write well. Hopes at least to be able to support herself still. Two stories were rejected recently for being dull, and the editors were right. Please plan on meeting somewhere—really has gotten more easy going. Willie
Has had a crazy winter too, but unlike Roscoe's it wasn't from weather. Has had to deal with all kinds of problems while Mr. McClure in Europe. Was ill with bronchitis in December, and Isabelle came to nurse her. Even then had to work on the magazine, for magazines, like sick infants, have to be constantly fed. Thankfully she had the Russian material and the Paoli article [Xavier, Paoli, "Recollections of the Shah of Persia," McClure's Magazine 24.5 (March 1910): 525-538] that she secured when in England. Is improved now, but still has to rest and consume milk like a child. Has had good success with the the magazine, however; profits up $60,000 from the previous year. Doesn't get any of that money herself, but does get praise. Do read the March issue, as she worked hard on it, and definitely read "A Joint in the Harness" ["Ole Luk-Oie" {pseudonym of Sir Ernest Dunlop Swinton}, "A Joint in the Harness," McClure's Magazine 24.5 (March 1910): 547-557], which she got in England. Would appreciate his telling her what pieces he likes and doesn't like; it's helpful when people tell her their reactions forthrightly. Certainly doesn't like everything that gets published herself! Has written Mrs. Goudy and Mrs. Fulton. Thanks for the silk stockings at Christmas. Has he seen darling Mary Virginia since she started talking? Has received a letter from Aunt Franc; enjoyed visiting with her, Auntie, and Bess last summer. Loves that far-off, quiet country. If health permits, will go to England in May, and wishes Roscoe could go, too, as she longs for a good talk with him. Wishes she could come out to Lander, but job is very demanding—more so than running Sandy Point. What has become of Jim Yeiser, anyway? Can't get into one letter all the interesting things she'd like to tell him. Will shrug off the office and catch a train west one of these days. Willie
Had wonderful time in Maine, then spent a few days in Chicago for reasons of work before coming to Red Cloud. Plans to visit him in Wyoming, but doesn't know when. Affairs in Red Cloud are pretty messy. James has convinced father to invest in a lot of farm buildings and equipment, but has no interest in doing the work of a farm. All Jim cares about is bossing Jack around and worrying their parents. He persists in nagging father, and, of course, father can't refuse but is worried sick. Thankfully Douglass's work prevents the situation from absolutely crushing their father, but it feels like a return to the hard times of 1893 after so many better years. Isn't at all sure what actually belongs to Jim and what he has just claimed for himself. Willa.
Received Roscoe's letter just as she and Edith Lewis were starting out from Denver for Taos. Wanted to come to Lander, but Edith was intent on coming back here, where they had such a wonderful week last year. Hopes that after two weeks in Taos, she can stop by Lander on the way back east. At some point, will make it to Red Cloud. Hopes Mother, whom Elsie reports as being unwell, can be convinced to spend some time in Denver. Does long to meet young West Virginia [her nickname for Roscoe's oldest daughter, Virginia]. May remain in Nebraska until well into autumn. Felt so overwhelmed by deaths and marriages of friends this past winter that she only managed to produce two pieces of short fiction the entire winter and spring. He likely noticed the one in The Century—not of much merit ["The Bookkeeper's Wife," The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, 92 (May 1916): 51-59]. McClure's bought the second one, which is considerably more successful ["The Diamond Mine," McClure's Magazine, 47 (October 1916): 7-11; 66-70]. Would like to discuss her conception for a new novel—not striking in itself. Hasn't had a really striking idea since Sandy Point [a play town Cather constructed out of packing boxes with her brothers and friends as a child in Red Cloud, Nebraska]. The challenge of the new novel, an especially difficult challenge for a woman writer, is that it must center on a man. Gets a lot of credit for her male characters, but they are successful only because a woman is always at the center of the story and the men are seen only through them. Can manage that much quite well, but is nervous to go beyond that strategy. Nevertheless, a boy and a man must be at the center of this new book. Wishes she could discuss it with him; he could give her some guidance. If only he had written a diary on his trip to Yellowstone. The book she has in mind is somewhat similar. Apologizes for the bad penmanship, but there are five Jewish salesmen in line for the hotel's one bottle of ink. Is staying at a comfortable hotel run by a dignified Mexican woman and her French-speaking parrot (her dead husband was a Frenchman). Taos is wonderful, if one is up to crossing forty miles of canyons to reach it. The population is completely Mexican and there is a lovely Indian pueblo nearby. Would be wonderful if Roscoe could come along on these adventures. Life is so unforgiving: remain independent and one feels unanchored; get bound up and, well, that's it. Isabelle's new husband is a terrible Jew that nobody likes. It's a dilemma. Plans to remain less encumbered from now on. Goodbye and hopes to see Roscoe and Meta soon. Willie.
Hasn't had a minute to herself until now. Had to give a talk at Gertie Coon's Institute. Loves to play with West Virginia—such a lovely, fascinating child. Virginia's grandmother pretends to be a disciplinarian, but really spoils her. Virginia has seemed to want to go home only once, when she saw father without his dentures and started crying. Virginia will be a challenge to raise as she is headstrong and doesn't have a good sense of priorities: will ruin an entire picnic because she couldn't wear a particular ribbon in her hair, though in fact she is indifferent to hair ribbons and loves the idea of the picnic. She seems unable to give in. However, after a big fight with her grandmother about whether it is acceptable to play in the rain barrel while wearing a nice white dress, she is pleasant and not bitter. And Douglass agrees that she has such a delightful voice. Roscoe ought to be firm with her when she gets passionate over small matters. People who lack proper perspective live muddled lives. However, that's really the only improvement she needs. Otherwise, she is very appealing: a smart girl, who will likely respond to guidance. Her grandmother won't be any help, though, as so many of her days have also been spoiled over trifles. Mary Virginia and Tom, despite their upbringing, know they can't be bothersome or they won't be tolerated by their adult aunts and uncles. Doesn't have any idea what Jim's plans are—who could?—, but they should let Virginia stay awhile. Everyone enjoys her company. Loves seeing the way their unsentimental mother keeps looking in on Virginia after she is asleep. Misses Margaret and Elizabeth very much and wishes they could read letters. Please get copies of the photographs of her with the twins made soon so she can mail them to people like Jack and Isabelle. Felt so bleak when she first went to Lander and left feeling revived. The twins took her mind off problems, and taking horseback rides with Roscoe was invigorating and heartening. Had secretly feared that she and Meta would not get along, but found it a real pleasure to become friends with her. Was so relieved, and really feels now that she and Meta could be companionable even on a long trip with the twins. Should have come to Lander long ago. Misses the twins terribly. Wonders if they enjoy Isabelle's gift of a stuffed bear? P.S. Remember to send the pictures! Willie.
Elsie is leaving on Friday and is now packing, or trying to. Cather is relaxing on the upper porch and going through the newly-purchased "Rocky Mountain Flowers" book. Virginia has the remarkable ability to recognize familiar shapes and instantly identified flowers she knows from Lander. She can perceive forms so soundly that she sees, in an instant, the difference between snapdragons and peas. Challenged her to distinguish among the pine trees in the yard, and she did it quickly and confidently. Mary Virginia and Tom cannot manage nearly as well. When the others went to the Bladen Fair, she and Virginia shared tea in the upper porch, which they imagined was Wendy's tree house [from J. M. Barrie's Peter Pan]. The summer days are devoted to the porch, where they each have a hammock. Wishes the twins were there. [Note in top margin:]In our botanical craze, we should call the baby Virginia occidentalis. Happy to receive the photographs of Margaret and Elizabeth. Willa.
Has neglected to answer his letter with story of Virginia's tooth, which she told to all of her New York friends. Quickly came west because the University of Nebraska presented her an honorary Doctor of Letters on their fiftieth anniversary commencement. Edith Abbott, who works with Jane Addams, also got one. The two of them were the first women ever to receive such degrees from the University. John Neihardt also received the award, and the Doctor of Laws was given to Theodore Roosevelt, Roscoe Pound, and General John J. Pershing. Elsie was already there, but father drove to Lincoln for the sole purpose of attending the ceremony. So sweet of him! Barnard McNeny also attended. Was happy to see her old teachers so proud of her. Only twelve or so women have received honorary degrees in the U.S., most of them educators, like Alice Freeman Palmer and Jane Addams. Any chance there would be someplace to rent in Lander between July 15 and August 15? She and Edith Lewis are thinking that when Edith comes west, they may go to Wyoming. Couldn't stay with at his house, as Edith doesn't like visiting. At $5 a day the Amoretti ranch seems overpriced. Unfortunately, getting the degree meant that she never was able to shop for new dresses for the twins as she intended. Will get them New York dresses soon. P.S. Father and Elsie are doing well. Willie.
Won't be able to come to Lander after all, as Edith's vacation has been reduced due to the war. Jack arrived Saturday, to their surprise. He looks good and hopes to be there for three weeks. It was unusual to see Jack, the bishop, and Mr. Bates together. Roscoe and Meta would enjoy seeing Jack so pleasant and hopeful. Jack is working with Elsie on the parade. [Note in top margin:] Is mailing the brief note so Roscoe won't find a house for them. Willa.
