The Selected Letters of Laura Ingalls Wilder
Page 17
Manly remembers a treadmill thresher in New York in 1866. This is the way it stands:
Treadmill thresher in N.Y. 1866
Harvester where men stood to bind. 1873
Self-binder with wire before 1879
Twine binder certainly before 1882
Steam thresher in Minnesota in 1877 and were used in Dakota when we were married.
There were the old horse power machines, which were more generally used, because of the cost of fuel for a steam engine.
You see David’s crops must have been in 1881 or 1882 and he could have bought a self-binder and a steam thresher.
The trouble with your G.R. is that he dated your story too early, and he did get some of his other dates wrong. Manly said the G.R. didn’t get around much to know what was going on, and the place where he lived must have been awfully backward. Remember the R.R. was not completed to De Smet until the spring of 1880.
Turtle Creek and the Indian scare was that same summer so your story is dated 1880 and after. . . . [Rose included the tension between the settlers and the Native Americans in Free Land. An eastern man stole a mummified infant from a burial ground, intending to show it as a curiosity in the east. Times were tense until the corpse was returned.]
The very light in the yard is green
MAY 4, 1938
Rose Dearest,
I am so sorry I did not tell you what my income was last year, until it was too late.
Time and time again I have read that a married couple paid no income tax until their income was $2,500.
And every year I have noticed that ours was not that much. I had no idea it made any difference whether you knew what it was until it reached that amount. Surely when our intentions were innocent, we will be allowed to make it right and not be punished, for my mistake.
I am well as usual. Manly is getting better of the trouble in his head. It was just the after effects of the flu.
Trees are in full leaf now and the very light in the yard is green. It is so restful on the eyes.
I have gone back to the glasses I wore six years ago. They fit my eyes better than any later ones. Must be my eyes are growing younger.
I am very busy so this must be a short letter.
Much love,
Mama Bess
You are probably right about the beginning of Silver Lake
After debating the beginning of Silver Lake, Laura and Rose reached a truce. Following Rose’s admonition that Silver Lake would be the last book if Laura ignored her instructions, Laura compromised. In this letter, Laura gives an overview of her next two books. Later she realized that another volume was needed to complete the series.
AUGUST 17, 1938
Rose Dearest,
I sent you the letter from Ida Louise telling how late it would do to send Silver Lake for publication this fall. If I remember correctly the deadline was August first. Anyway, at that time, I gave up thought of having it published this year . . . and there was no time to finish it, if you took any vacation getting moved and settled.
Mary was 15 years old, I was thirteen. Carrie was nine and Grace two . . . in the surveyors house on Silver Lake. The books made me six in the Big Woods. That would make me 7 in Prairie and 8 when we lived in the dugout on Plum Creek. Plum Creek is the story of three winters that would make me 10. Two years from the end of Plum Creek to the beginning of Silver Lake in the surveyors house. I would be 14 in the Hard Winter and 15 the next winter. That was the year I began teaching at Bouchie’s in December, two months before I was 16 years old.
Sixteen was the legal age, but the superintendent of schools forgot to ask me how old I was, because they wanted me to teach that school. Mr. Boast had recommended me to his friends there. He got the school for me and my age was overlooked. Mr. Boast couldn’t have done that if he had been Peter. I think it is important. It shows how few teachers there were. How glad the people were to find someone to teach their little schools! And the place the little schools filled in the new settlements. And also that in her haphazard schooling, mostly at home, Laura had learned enough that she passed examinations and got a certificate to teach when she was only 15. The age is important. She must not be more than 15–16 the next February. Where I caught up to the age given me in the books was the year out in Iowa and the two years Mary was sick and lost her sight in Walnut Grove. But we have dropped Iowa and Walnut Grove out of the story, leaving Laura on Plum Creek until she went to Silver Lake.
I hope this is clear.
You are probably right about the beginning of Silver Lake . . . but how to write that chapter and not have it too sad. On page 12 of Silver Lake, as I wrote it [in her penciled manuscript] you will find the financial situation. Not “poverty worse than ever” as you put it, but what I have said on page 12.
Surely, Ma charged all those strangers for staying overnight and for board, 25 cents a meal, 50 cents for a place to sleep . . . $4.50 a week for board and a place to sleep, not a room, just a bed on the floor. . . . Pa had nearly all the money he had earned on the railroad. Ma boarded Fred Fields and I didn’t put that in the story, thought it was better to keep the family to itself. His board money would have paid for our groceries and there was no other expense. Without that our groceries would have cost very little. We had our milk and butter from Ellen and fresh fowl from Pa’s hunting. Our winter supplies were in the surveyors’ house and they cost us nothing but taking care of the property. Pa had his railroad money. I think Pa bought the lot [on the town site of De Smet] from the railroad. There was no depot, nor railroad agent there when he built, nor when the first buildings were put up. The town was staked out and I think the first comers simply squatted on the lots they wanted and bought them later. The lots sold for $50, an inside lot, $75 for a corner lot. A building worth $250 had to be built on a lot within six months to hold it.
Pa first built on a corner lot facing east with side street on the south side. That was where it snowed in on us in an April blizzard. He sold that place at a good profit on the lot because it was the most desirable location in town. Also he got pay for his work building the house and pay for the material, that would have bought material for building again, so he would have money left after buying the lot diagonally across the street with a west and north frontage. . . . This is where we lived in Hard Winter. It seemed to me not necessary to explain all this in the story. It would take too much space, and I thought, add nothing. The value of the building is that it is the town house where we lived in Hard Winter and while I taught the Bouchie School; where Manly brought me every Friday night and from where we went sleigh riding, with the town crowd, Saturday and Sunday afternoon, the length of the street and circle you remember. If we had lived in the country we wouldn’t have been in that charmed circle.
About the characters I am sort of stumped. I put Louisa in Big Woods and you cut her out. I had forgotten that when I put her in Silver Lake. Let it be Uncle Henry, Aunt Polly and Charley in Silver Lake. Cut Louisa. On page 76 of Silver Lake I tell what became of them. So far as I ever knew until on our trip this summer. Carrie told me she had found Aunt Polly was buried in the old, old cemetery at Keystone, the Black Hills, you know.
Uncle George, Uncle James and their families stayed in the Big Woods so far as I ever knew. Laura Ingalls was Uncle James’ daughter. I never heard any more of them. Grandpa & Grandma Ingalls lived their lives out in the Big Woods. Aunt Lottie stayed in Wisconsin, was married there, and I never saw her again. She was somewhere near Madison. Oh No! No! Uncle James was not John James Ingalls of Kansas. Uncle James was Pa’s brother. J. J. Ingalls was a second cousin or even more of Pa’s. And he was John J. Ingalls. [John James Ingalls was a Kansas politician; he served as a U.S. senator for eighteen years, starting in 1873.]
We bring all of our family, Pa, Ma, Mary, Laura, Carrie; also Uncle Henry, Aunt Polly, Charley and Aunt Docia from Big Woods into Silver Lake. It seems to me those are enough to tie it up. Then there is Mr. Edwards from Prairie, which hitches that book in. A
lso the Wilder boys. Mr. Edwards comes again in Hard Winter, and the Wilder boys from Farmer Boy. Unfortunately we have used real names in these books and must stick closer to the facts than otherwise we would need to.
Alice and Ella and their husbands come visiting in the last book, and Peter can come too, though he didn’t come until after you were born.
Peter can’t be Mr. Boast; Mr. Boast is a frontier character that Peter doesn’t fit. Peter was near my age and Mr. Boast is old enough to own teams and a homestead and such. Besides, in going to the frontier, one meets strangers and makes friends and enemies. Friendships are made quickly. One doesn’t move west with whole communities, nor with all their “uncles and their cousins and their aunts.” None of the letters have asked about any of the characters that I have dropped except Black Susan, and I venture to say there will be no outcry over any except Jack.
We did not have the kitten until the summer after the Hard Winter. We were not civilized enough before that. That kitten was blue and white and I want it left that way. Leave Susan out, don’t bring her in at all. It is a point . . . to show that there was only one cat in the community as late as after the Hard Winter and none before that. It emphasizes the newness and rawness. Leave Susan out!
I don’t want the Huleatts either. I think they are not needed. As Laura grows up and moves on, she must leave people behind and make new friends.
I truly don’t see why Uncle Henry and Charley must be used in the rest of the books or be substituted for by someone. . . . We have five principal characters who go all the way through, six, counting Almanzo. That is enough to carry the story.
We have Uncle Henry, Aunt Polly and Charley and Aunt Docia passing through, going on west. And a glimpse of the Wilder boys. We have Mr. Edwards just passing in and out. In the next book . . . the Wilder boys become alive & a glimpse of Nellie Oleson. That is Hard Winter.
In the last book, Prairie Girl (?) we have the whole family, the Wilder boys, Nellie Oleson, Uncle Tom, with news [of the rest]. And Peter if you want.
. . . The new friends . . . will be Mary Power and Ida Brown, perhaps Stella Gilbert. Though I think I’ll combine Jennie Masters and Stella in Nellie Oleson.
How does that look to you for a list of characters? They come and go, pass in and out of the story as they really do. And the story is carried on . . . through the Ingalls family. . . . I think to bring characters along as you suggest is unnecessary. I know it is unnatural and untrue of the times. . . .
When Alice and Ella and Uncle Tom come visiting, we can have news of all the people in L.H. in Big Woods and tie the first and last book closely together, ending the story. Please, can’t we do it that way?
I do not remember more of “When I was one and twenty, Nell, and you were seventeen.” Thought I had it but did not. Then I remembered it was in an old song book of Pa’s. Carrie may have it or remember the song. I will write to her and Grace and try to find out. That would be the only chance. No one else in De Smet ever sang it and I don’t remember that we ever did after the winter in the surveyors house.
I will send you a skeleton outline of the next two books in a few days. I made one for my own use. . . . The only way I can write is to wander along with the story, then rewrite and re-arrange and change it everywhere. I have 10 chapters of the first rough, very rough draft of Hard Winter. But you could not read them if I sent them to you. They are really nothing more than an arrangement of my notes. . . .
Must hurry to mail this.
Much love,
Mama Bess
That sort of ballyhoo would appeal
This letter was written while Rose was enduring the 1938 hurricane, which damaged Danbury with high winds, flooding, and downed trees. While Rose hosted marooned neighbors, Laura drummed up interest in the Ludlow Amendment. If added to the Constitution, the amendment stipulated that a national referendum would be required before America declared war on any foreign power, excepting in the case of direct attack. Rose was an advocate of the bill, during those isolationist times. She published articles supporting the amendment, testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee, and engaged Laura in a grassroots campaign. The concept was not endorsed by President Roosevelt. Following Germany’s attack on Poland in 1939, public support waned.
SEPTEMBER 26, 1938
Rose Dearest,
Your letter dated the 22nd came this morning. It was evidently written before the storm was at its worst and we are anxious to hear from you again. It seems bad enough the way you wrote and we are hoping the bad storm passed you by and that your electricity being off and wires down is only your part of that terrible storm. But you did say “the clouds look threatening.”
A note from George Bye says he mailed you Pioneer Girl. So you can have it for reference. You will likely find the description of the little house there and whatever else you need [a reference to information Rose requested for her editorial work on By the Shores of Silver Lake]. We will study the book names awhile longer. I can’t agree with you about the short names. So many people have said “I love your titles. They are so descriptive.” And letters have said, “I was attracted by the title of L.H. on the Prairie” and another by “L.H. in B.W.” To be plain, I hate too short, two word titles. But I don’t want to fight it out now. Instead, I’ll tell you what I have done.
The whole Athenian Club of Hartville will write the congressmen to vote for the Ludlow Referendum Bill. There are 18 or 20 members, so quite a bunch of letters. Mrs. Davis is writing and will get others to. Mr. Davis brought out “To American Mothers” letter [Davis published the widely printed letter in the local newspaper]. Thought it would be good to send a copy to people in each state. That is, I send to 10 people, as far scattered as possible, and you do the same. Mr. Davis’s idea is to leave them unsigned, just to call attention to the matter. He said that sort of ballyhoo would appeal to lots of people. I don’t know, but it can do no harm. Perhaps the way Mr. Davis expresses it, the letter may appeal to the kind of people that nothing else would reach.
Mrs. Gere is going to write, and she is going to write also to her mother and sister in Colorado. Says she knows they will write their congressmen, for her mother is nearly crazy over it. She says she will tell her father to take it up and is sure he will. He is mayor of his town. They are Democrats gone Republican. Bruce and Mrs. Bruce want to sign, but I must write the letters for them. Makes me 24 letters to write. Don’t you think I have done very well for the short time since you wrote? I’ll be glad when I have all these letters written.
Mrs. Bruce had a nine pound girl. Has had a bad time but is doing all right now, except that Prock, senior, has rented his farm, and he and Mrs. Prock have moved in on Bruce. Bruce had a hired girl doing the work and she still stays. How Bruce can manage I don’t know, nor how Mrs. Bruce stands it.
Mr. and Mrs. Gere took dinner with us yesterday, Sunday. This is the first time I have invited company to dinner since I can remember. We had fried chicken & gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet corn custard, hot biscuit and butter & honey, pineapple and olive salad, pumpkin pie with whipped cream, and coffee. Mrs. Gere is a wonderful cook. We have been there twice, and I was scared to have them, but everything turned out good. They go, the fifth of October, for two weeks in Colorado.
The goat kids are over in that pasture near the Geres, and Mrs. Gere counts them every day and coaxes them with bits of bread and parings.
I have had a run of company this week. Two from Hartville, one from near Mountain Grove, Mr. and Mrs. Davis twice, the Geres, and Neta Seal.
A letter from Child Life wanting stories.
Do you know anything about “Jack and Jill” magazine for boys and girls, just started by Curtis Publishing Company? “A perfect companion for the Saturday Evening Post, Ladies Home Journal, and Country Gentleman.” Might be a market.
Love to John and more especially to yourself. Let us hear from you.
Mama Bess
Our interests all centered at home
OCTOBER
8, 1938
Rose Dearest,
Brookings was laid out, “staked out” adjoining the R.R. camp. That was ten miles east of the river. Volga was later built on the river. It is forty (40) miles from Brookings to De Smet. The river there is the Big Sioux but it is so near the head that it is not a large stream. Its source is north of Watertown, flows south through Volga and Dell Rapids to Sioux Falls and still south to the Missouri at Sioux City.
There were farms near the first camp, but none we saw on the river. Within the 10 miles from camp to the river the prairie became more rolling. We saw no bluffs along the river and I do not remember any trees. It was just a prairie stream, bound to be low at that time of year.
I don’t know that the land was rough enough to be called “breaks.” It was just low rolling rises that we wound around among just before we came to the water.
I don’t remember any cows at the first camp, I suppose Aunt Docia bought them from a nearby farmer, to take to Silver Lake.
I don’t know really if we were first at Silver Lake, but I think we were. Not long enough that we would have minded being without milk. I don’t know that it matters who was at Silver Lake first. I don’t care either way.
I am sure that we slept on the floor of Pa’s office-store and there was nothing left in it that night we stayed in the first camp, and we stayed only the one night. I think Silver Lake copy [manuscript] is right.
I don’t remember ever seeing the black ponies at Silver Lake camp. I know Lena and I were together only at milking time. Uncle Hi might have put the ponies on the work somewhere or he might have traded them in on a work team. . . .
Strange how my memory fails me on all but the high lights. We were maybe queer not to have been more with the kinfolks, but we had very little to do with them. We were busy cooking for us all and Fred Fields and Big Jerry later on. There was Grace to take care of and Mary to read to and take for walks, washing, ironing, mending, sewing, water to bring from the well, wood to bring in, wild fowl to dress and only Ma and me to do it. Carrie was only nine years old and Mary was no help, of course.