Letter #18

Letter # 18, May 30, 1918
Bountiful, Utah

Dear Sweetheart Henry,

Well, the holiday is nearly over, for it is 9:30 PM. I guess that it’s your bedtime isn’t it? I hope you’ve enjoyed the day very much. Oh yes, I’ve had a fine time. Mamma and Aunt Annie went down to the Salt City Cemetery to the Decoration Day service, and to the services in the Tabernacle at twelve o’clock.
Salt Lake City Cemetery

graveyard and rode thru it and looked around. Then we rode on the upper road as far as the Centerville Station and home. Today was the first day Mamma ever wanted a car. Everyone here is car-struck tonight, but Papa was just saying that he had his feather’s ruffled in the rush of cars today. Everyone yells at us to hurry or get off the road. Even Mama has the fever. Oh, I wish we were rich and had a car, but I know if we did, I’d run it and the first place I’d go is Boulder. Would you let me come, sweetheart? Well, I guess we’ll wait a long time unless Papa gets the fever too strongly. Papa wants to get out of debt, first. He says another Decoration Day would never pass unless he had one.
Papa has had the pen, so give me the honor for his letter. I have spent the day crocheting, practicing, sleeping, etc., but I am enjoying the evenings most of all. When we were on the upper road tonight we passed Miss Harrison and Mrs. Cook. Someone else was in the backseat.
I see by Papa’s letter that I have told you all the news: past, present, future. I guess you think, Henry dear, that it is a mistake, for sometimes I think I’m a poor letter writer. If I do not tell you anything you wish to know, just ask me and I’ll try and answer it.
They were joking with me last night at choir practice (tonight should have been the night, but it was a holiday.) They said I looked better since you left. They said it was because I got more sleep. They surely did make a vast mistake. Not that I’m not well, because I’m fine. But they mistake the reason. I put the reason as such: because my life has more color and because I have more to live for. Even though you are gone, I must not relapse, for I’m going to be robust and strong when you get back.
My, this is scribbling, but it is eleven o’ clock and they want me to go to bed but I want to write a little. I took a little article up to Sis. Yurka today that I had been doing some work on. I kissed her, and then Bro. Yurka stood up to shake hands with me and acted as if he were going to kiss me. You know, they way you and Gene do. I said, “Why, Bro. Yurka!” Sis. Yurka laughed and said he was just trying to take Henry’s place. She certainly is sweet to me and a good friend of mine. Don’t worry, Henry, dear. No one gets my kisses; they’re in cold storage.
Someone has just come to the door for Hazel. She went to lock the door and he was right there. She didn’t go. It was that Moore who lives in the Fulton place. Mrs. Bartholomew was to have gone, and he came for her, but she won’t go as she works in the field as well as the house.
Well, goodnight sweetheart, they say I’m to go to bed so I will finish in the morning. One kiss please, before I go to bed. Thanks. Goodnight.
Good morning! Oh yes, I’m up and have been for some time. I was awake at 5:30, and I lay there thinking of you having to get up at the same time. We, I guess you will get far on it.
I have been working out in the garden and planting out some asters, ten- week stocks, and petunias which Mamma got down to Uncle Chauncey’s. I still have some snapdragons to put out. I work quite a bit in the garden lately. It is looking fine, I think. Mamma wanted the flowers out before it rained again, for it looks pretty threatening. It rained last night. Papa is getting a load today. He is bunching turnips now.
Well, Lagoon opened yesterday. I heard once that it didn’t open until 6:00. I think that is a good thing, as yesterday was a fast and prayer day. We all fasted yesterday. Yesterday we saw six of the big summer cars which were burned taken downtown. Just the framework was left. It surely looked a shame didn’t it? I forget to tell you about our circus Wednesday night. When we came out of choir practice it was raining so we went down to the corner to wait for the car. Bro. Hardy took his mother and father home and he and his wife came back and brought us home. Don’t worry Henry, dear, about Bro. Hardy and me, for I guess they think I’m sobered down, nigh on to marrying, for Zada and he have a terrible case, so he doesn’t think of anyone else, which is fine. I think Zada had better be careful.
Well, we had just gotten home when it started to thunder and lightning, and the lights began to flicker. We made some snatch grabs just as the lights went off. Hazel and I wandered around the house stubbing our toes and kicking our shins, etc., for some time, for we had to fix Daddy some medicine. Then when we got into bed, we had a quarrel to see which one should turn to the other. Well, the lightning would strike my heart sooner if she turned to me, so I gave in as always: you know me. Oh yes, I was just reading your letter as the lights went out, because Hazel hid it from during the daytime, and I had just found it. The lights came on when I was in bed, so I got up to finish the letter yesterday morning.
Have you had any more of your soldier apparel given to you? You’ve got to have a pair of coveralls for your work. Shall I send you a pair of Papa’s old overalls? I think they’d be fine, as two working together could get in them! Does George or Clyde get more letters than you do? Do you really want me to write every day, love? Wouldn’t you get tired of reading them? Have you any answers to you cards or letters yet?
I guess Sunday School will be closed down again as the Scarlett Fever is not over yet. Alton Call is better now. I surely am glad. Amelia is still pretty sick. I was pretty disappointed yesterday as the mailman didn’t come. The best I could do was read your last letter, but I am hoping and hoping that I will get it off today. I must hurry now for it is mail time and I want my letter to go off.
Oh, Papa said to tell you not to mention that about France, for if the Bartholomews heard it they would be sore.
Elna passed yesterday in the car. Henry, dear, you surely have a host of friends here who inquire about you often. Sis. Bartholomew wants to be remembered.
Well, sweetheart, I’m afraid the mail will be here before I get this in the box, so good bye.
As ever, your sweetheart,
Violet
P.S. I’ve got to churn now, or mix bread. Which shall I do? Tell George hello. This is yours….X