Abbie B., age 22, Kansas

Have not written for two days. Had time, but there was nothing of special interest to write. Finished P- shirt, all but button holes. No mail for some days. Two weeks ago brother H was here. Time passes— My six months will soon be up. Philip wanted to take me on a trip to Indian Territory, but we have both been too ailing. I think I will go home, and he will likely spend the winter in Indiana. Have been thinking of going to the cabin, since I feel stronger. Went this p. m. Took my time and walked slowly. Sometimes it seemed as if I was taking good bye looks. Perhaps I was. It is a long walk. I find I am not nearly as strong as when I came to Kansas.

We have corn, mellons and potatoes—back of the cabin. I tried to eat a mellon—but have taken so much quinine, that mellons sicken me.   Such a lot going to waste.

The cabin, so lonely— I could not even rest there— The walks to well and river grown over. It did not seem like the old cheerful place, and I left— Went up the river to the plum patch, found three qts.

Was acrost the river from the Rose house. Would have gone over, but had on such an old torn dress— I still have a little self respect left.

Coming home I stopped at my garden and got sweet corn for supper. Had dried apples soaking. Stewed some plums—drained them, and boiled the apples in the plum juice, and they are much better.

Do not think I will have a chill tomorrow. I am getting thin, I will soon look like the man who had ague so long, that he looked like two knitting needles, stuck in a mellon seed, as Bess Bee said of some one.

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