So I got some telegraph blanks and envelopes, and I have written
messages from the show managers, twice a day. The morning message would
tell about the business of the day before, and how they missed pa. Then
I would add something like this: "The farmers around Olathe are all
inquiring for you," or "The farmers around Topeka wish you were here,
'cause they want to give you a reception," or "About 200 farmers at
Parsons think we ought to let them in free, on account of being old
friends of yours." The last one broke pa all up. The message said: "Many
farmers from Atchison are going to come with us to Kansas City to confer
with you on an old matter of business." Pa jumped like a box car off the
track, and wanted the doctors to send him to a hospital at St. Louis,
and he told the doctors the reason, but they cheered him up by saying
that if any mob came to the hospital after him, they would hide him in
the pickling vat, and make the mob believe he was dead. That is the way
it stands now. But pa is not so darn happy as I have seen him, though I
try to do all I can to keep his mind off his trouble. I tell him as long
as his conscience is clear, he is all right, but he says: "But, Hennery,
that's the trouble; it ain't clear. Well, let us have peace, at any
price.
Pages:
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205