ly. It seems years since I saw you. I am going to my cot quick.
It is now eight o'clock, and I feel like I had been beaten in a stone
crusher. Kiss Hope's foot for me.

Your loving husband,

DICK.

Monday.

DEAREST ONE:

I got such a beautiful letter from you! With pictures of Hope
playing with the Bunny. It is the best picture yet. I carry it next
to my heart because you made it, because it is of her. And she sits up
now? Well, I will miss the big clothes-basket. I loved to see her in
it. Years ago, when I left home, she was trying to crawl out of it.
What you tell me of her--knowing what you mean when you say "Kitty" and
"Bunny"--is wonderful. How good it will be! You must come close under
my arm, and tell me every little thing. I feel so much better now that
we have broken into the last week, and are on the home stretch. We
have broken the backbone of the long absence, and, the first thing you
know, I'll be telephoning to have you meet me at White Plains.

This is me sewing up a hole in my breeches. The socks are drying on
the line, my rubber bath is on the right. I am now going to Canada.
But I'll be back in half an hour; it's only 200 yards distant. All the
folks here are French, and the signs are in French. Last place we
halted I bought lumberman's socks to wear at night. I sleep very well,
for I buy my raincoat full of hay from the nearest farmer, and sleep on
that. Today we had another "battle." It began at 7.30 and ended at
one o'clock. We were kept going all that time, taking "cover" behind
railroad embankments and stone walls and in plowed fields, finally
ending with a bayonet charge. I killed so many I stopped counting.

Don't let Hope forget her father. Better put on a wrist-watch and my
horn spectacles, and hold her the wrong way, so she will be reminded of
her Dad.

Good-night, my dearest one. You will never know how terribly I miss
you and love you, and want you in my arms, and you holding Hope so that
I can have all my happiness in one big armful of all that is good.

YOUR LOVING HUSBAND.

Wednesday.

DEAREST ONE:

The Vitagraph people came today. They have a great film to stir people
to preparedness called "The Battle Cry of Peace." It shows New York
destroyed by Germans. They took pictures of several of the
better-known men showing "them" preparing. I was taken cleaning my
rifle, and, as the captain was passing, I asked him to get in the
picture with