I had only been here six weeks then, and was a stranger.  That is why I had no one to help me and was so confused and hurried.  As soon as the newcomers were warm, Mr. Stewart told me I had better come over by him and stand up.  It was a large room I had to cross, and how I did it before all those strange eyes I never knew.  All I can remember very distinctly is hearing Mr. Stewart saying, “I will,” and myself chiming in that I would, too.  Happening to glance down, I saw that I had forgotten to take off my apron or my old shoes, but just then Mr. Pearson pronounced us man and wife, and as I had dinner to serve right away I had no time to worry over my odd toilet.  Anyway the shoes were comfortable and the apron white, so I suppose it could have been worse; and I don’t think it has ever made any difference with the Pearsons, for I number them all among my most esteemed friends.

It is customary here for newlyweds to give a dance and supper at the hall, but as I was a stranger I preferred not to, and so it was a long time before I became acquainted with all my neighbors.  I had not thought I should ever marry again.  Jerrine was always such a dear little pal, and I wanted to just knock about foot-loose and free to see life as a gypsy sees it.  I had planned to see the Cliff-Dwellers’ home; to live right there until I caught the spirit of the surroundings enough to live over their lives in imagination anyway.  I had planned to see the old missions and to go to Alaska; to hunt in Canada.  I even dreamed of Honolulu.  Life stretched out before me one long, happy jaunt.  I aimed to see all the world I could, but to travel unknown bypaths to do it.  But first I wanted to try homesteading.

But for my having the grippe, I should never have come to Wyoming.  Mrs. Seroise, who was a nurse at the institution for nurses in Denver while I was housekeeper there, had worked one summer at Saratoga, Wyoming.  It was she who told me of the pine forests.  I had never seen a pine until I came to Colorado; so the idea of a home among the pines fascinated me.  At that time I was hoping to pass the Civil-Service examination, with no very definite idea as to what I would do, but just to be improving my time and opportunity.  I never went to a public school a day in my life.  In my childhood days there was no such thing in the Indian Territory part of Oklahoma where we lived, so I have had to try hard to keep learning.  Before the time came for the examination I was so discouraged because of the grippe that nothing but the mountains, the pines, and the clean, fresh air seemed worth while; so it all came about just as I have written you.

So you see I was very deceitful.  Do you remember, I wrote you of a little baby boy dying?  That was my own little Jamie, our first little son.  For a long time my heart was crushed.  He was such a sweet, beautiful boy.  I wanted him so much.  He died of erysipelas.  I held him in my arms till the last agony was over.  Then I dressed the beautiful little body for the grave.  Clyde is a carpenter; so I wanted him to make the little coffin.  He did it every bit, and I lined and padded it, trimmed and covered it.  Not that we couldn’t afford to buy one or that our neighbors were not all that was kind and willing; but because it was a sad pleasure to do everything for our little first-born ourselves.