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#0558: Willa Cather to Dorothy Canfield Fisher, November 5 [1921]

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Dear Dorothy1:

I happened to meet Mrs. Elliott 3in Chicago4 and she told me you had been awfully ill. I am so sorry! Why where did you ever pick up the bug? Mrs. E. said your children5 didn't have it. Well, you're out of the woods now, anyhow, and surely you can take your own sweet time to recover, with "The Brimming Cup"6 hitting it up like this and doing your work for you, as the Gold Dust ads7 used to say! Do take your time! Get away from Vermont8 to some mild winter climate—don't put yourself to the strain of facing a northern winter. Go to Arizona9 or New Mexico10.


I've had two lovely months at home11 with father12 and Mother13—both so well and young for their years. Mother can endure a great deal more than I can—it is a fact. She does not get tired half as soon. I'm going back to a quiet, impersonal life on Bank street14, quite worn out by the social and friendly attentions of Red Cloud15 and Omaha16. I wish I could like any spot in the world as well as the Divide17 between the Platte and the Republican—but I can't, so there! The place that just makes your "tummy" turn over inside you when you go back to it or leave it, is your place.

I hope every day is bringing you strength and cheer, dear Dorothy.

Lovingly Willa