The Brown Hotel
Daniel Morrison, Prop.
Miss Allene S. Kelley,
Dearest, can you realize that I sat up till the night was half gone trying to comply with that unnecessary request of yours for a chummy letter? And this morning the result of my efforts is on it's (sic) pokey way to you. I called it an unnecessary request Allene because every spare moment I have-(yes and lots of others too are devoted to tho'ts of you dear)-seem to be yours. And it's a pleasure to know you appreciate them and ask for even more. Somehow or other as I look back and think of my last night's letter it appears labored and stupid, but as I've already told you, it's on its' way and anyhow it was the best I could do.
The train arrives here this evening and leaves for its return trip in the morning. The conductor for accomodation (sic) will carry letters etc. to Palisade so by giving him this letter dear you'll get it about the same time as the one that went out this morning.
In one of your letters, one of the three I got in yesterday's mail, you speak of having had a headachy (sic) attack followed by "tummy" ache and "kinda" blame the hot weather and here I am blessing the hot days but I'll cross that word out dear and substitute damn if you find they are really the cause of your trouble. I don't want you suffering all the time and so if praying will do any good~say dear I'll get down on my tender shin bones and stay there till I wear out everything on the points of contact.
Who is Erma dear, and where is the ranch and is there a rural delivery there? You know I don't like these compulsory lapses in our correspondence a darn bit and if you get away from civilization too it's going to be simply~~well you say it dear. This old place hasn't even got a telegraph now and messages have to be phoned and that means that almost everybody else gets 'em before the parties to whom they are sent.
Well we will leave here next Saturday, I'm very sure, so after Monday you'd better send the letters to Elko. The last mail we will be able to get will be that which leaves Palisade Wednesday morning. The service here is the worst I ever saw and these old timers who are sitting around here dead but don't know it~~~~~~~~~ (six hours later-a patient interrupted)~~~~~~~~keep hanging on believing there's a better time coming and I guess there is for them but it won't be in Eureka.
The patient who interrupted dear was Mrs. Breen, the district judge's wife. The family are very good friends of mine. I've known them for a number of years. Mrs. Breen is the greatest woman I ever saw. It seems as tho' she can't do too much for us. Every time I come to Eureka and stay any length of time she will send one of the children down every day or so with a fried chicken, a pie, or a cake or something equally palatable and say but you should see us dear. We just sit ourselves down in the handiest place, usually the middle of the floor, and go to it like hogs. And she enjoys it,-and so do we.~~Gee but I like Mrs. Breen.
There's a dance here tonight and I'm going. Going to take Eileen-(I wish it was Allene)-and Thelma. They wanted to go so I told their mother Mrs. Breen I'd take them. Eileen is about sixteen and Thelma is a couple of years younger. If it was anyplace else, I'd feel like grandpa in a nursery but guess it'll be alright here.
With all my love dearest and wishing again it was you I was taking I'll close.
Ever your own,