BURNT FORK, WYOMING,
_April 18, 1909._

DEAR MRS. CONEY,--

Are you thinking I am lost, like the Babes in the Wood? Well, I am not
and I'm sure the robins would have the time of their lives getting
leaves to cover me out here. I am 'way up close to the Forest Reserve
of Utah, within half a mile of the line, sixty miles from the railroad.
I was twenty-four hours on the train and two days on the stage, and oh,
those two days! The snow was just beginning to melt and the mud was
about the worst I ever heard of.

The first stage we tackled was just about as rickety as it could very
well be and I had to sit with the driver, who was a Mormon and so
handsome that I was not a bit offended when he insisted on making love
all the way, especially after he told me that he was a widower Mormon.
But, of course, as I had no chaperone I looked very fierce (not that
that was very difficult with the wind and mud as allies) and told him
my actual opinion of Mormons in general and particular.

Meantime my new employer, Mr. Stewart, sat upon a stack of baggage and
was dreadfully concerned about something he calls his "Tookie," but I
am unable to tell you what that is. The road, being so muddy, was full
of ruts and the stage acted as if it had the hiccoughs and made us all
talk as though we were affected in the same way. Once Mr. Stewart asked
me if I did not think it a "gey duir trip." I told him he could call it
gay if he wanted to, but it didn't seem very hilarious to me. Every