and as no provision was made for "help"
entertaining company, she had never had a "beau." One day she got hold
of a matrimonial paper and saw Mr. Burney's ad. She answered and they
corresponded for several months. We were just in time to "catch it,"
as Mr. Haynes--who is a confirmed bachelor--disgustedly remarked.
Personally, I am glad; I like them much better than I thought I should
when they were raising so much dust so unnecessarily.

I must close this letter, as I see the men are about ready to
start. The children are standing the trip well, except that Robert
is a little sun-blistered. Did I tell you we left Junior with his
grandmother? Even though I have the other three, my heart is hungry
for my "big boy," who is only a baby, too. He is such a precious
little man. I wish you could see him!

With a heart very full of love for you,

E. R. S.

III

EDEN VALLEY

IN CAMP, August 28.

DEAR MRS. CONEY,--

We are almost across the desert, and I am really becoming interested.
The difficulties some folks work under are enough to make many of us
ashamed. In the very center of the desert is a little settlement
called Eden Valley. Imagination must have had a heap to do with its
name, but one thing is certain: the serpent will find the crawling
rather bad if he attempts to enter _this_ Eden, for the sand is hot;
the alkali and the cactus are there, so it must be a serpentless Eden.
The settlers have made a long canal and bring their water many miles.
They say the soil is splendid, and they don't have much stone; but it
is such a flat place! I wonder how they get the water to run when they
irrigate.

We saw many deserted homes. Hope's skeletons they are, with their
yawning doors and windows like eyeless sockets. Some of the houses,
which looked as if they were deserted, held families. We camped near
one such. Mrs. O'Shaughnessy and I went up to the house to buy some
eggs. A hopeless-looking woman came to the door. The hot winds and the
alkali dust had tanned her skin and bleached her hair; both were a
gray-brown. Her eyes were blue, but were so tired-looking that I could
hardly see for the tears.

"No," she said, "we ain't got no eggs. We ain't got no chickens. You
see this ground is sandy, and last year the wind blowed awful hard and
all the grain blowed out, so we didn't have no chance to raise
chickens. We had no feed and no money to buy feed,