Daniel Morrison, Prop.
Miss Allene S. Kelley
Variety, sure enuff, is the spice of life, Dearest and if that little old measly correspondence card hadn't been backed up with a couple of lively, open souled, "you-ey" letters, ("chummy" you correctly called that kind dear) I'd have kicked like a steer. Anyhow I didn't have time to write a decent letter that day and it came as an excuse for the thing I sent. Then when those two letters came dear I was so jubilant I just couldn't write and I've been busy - every second - since yesterday morning and am going to be the balance of the day. You'll get this tho' dear just as soon as you would had I written it yesterday and mailed it last night,-so-Yes so-
This is a little over twenty four hours since I wrote that so, dear. And a patient is to blame for it.
Yesterday forenoon-(this is Saturday) I tho't I could steal "enuff" time to finish a letter- the delayed one,-but no such luck. Now I'm in Palisade, on the main line, and only thirty miles from home, and have forgotten what I was going to say after so; you must know tho' Allene dear, that it was something nice,-not a complaint. You can surly write lovely letters dear and these last three -(another has been received)- are excellent samples of your abilities in that line.
Golly dear, I wish the train I am waiting for was going to take me to Modesto,-and you. Time is an awful slow poke when you are anticipating some pleasure,--and it's sure running in low for me.
With love, dearest,