Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Morgan 2: Harold Morgan, May 9, 1913

Hunt Ariz.
May 9th 1913

Dearest. Just three days since I left you yet it seems weeks which has been time enough though for many thoughts and questions to run thru [sic] my mind, different things I would like to talk to you about but can’t write on account of lack of expression. But I will save it all till we meet again.

Jessie I don’t know whether I can forgive you or not for walking me so far. Say but you must have been tired. I am all rested now and only the sweetest of memories comes to me. What a lot of things we talked about. Now we understand each other better don’t we dear. How I would love to see you tonight. There is a new moon tonight—no doubt you are looking at it now. There was also a new moon two years ago on the 5th of May the first time I kissed you. One reason for my being so persistent with you. But that seems so far back in the past. You were but a small girl and I was not any more of a boy.

Lin has just brought your letter so right here is where I read it. Say that’s the biggest letter you ever wrote to me, it’s a dandy, come again. But I’m surprised to think you would wonder if I was disappointed, well I should say not, if you had heard Udall and I eulogise [sic] on it you wouldn’t think so, really dearest I think it was the best time I ever had with you. I’m surley [sic] glad we didn’t go up to Lymans. Hope you have a good time down to Gibbons. Also your boat ride you hadn’t ought to miss anything like that. Are you really going to Eagar and for how long.

Say I was so sorry to hear about Katie Rabbi. Would surley [sic] hate to be Maurice. Hate to mention anything like that in a letter of this kind rather knocks the spirit out of a guy.

Was surprised that Joe didn’t know who that was. But that was a close one anyway wasn’t it.

Fri evening.– I would start this over but I’m afraid would run out of ink. You can hardly see what is left in the bottle. I don’t know what I have written will do better Sunday when I have more of the spirit. When I can be alone with only you dear heart as a companion, for a feel that you are ever near when everything is peaceful and quiet around. The birds seem to sing sweeter nature seem [sic] ever glad. This morning as I was hunting I found a flower, no it wasn’t a carnation just a lonely pretty little white flower, it reminded me of you. So I am keeping it.

How many things I have got to remind me of you. But dearest of all is the little tress that you seemed to miss so badly. Well dear be good write to me soon.

And ever believe me
yours most devotedly
Harold


(White wildflower from http://flickr.com/photos/prkos/1258388964/)

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