• Title: Letter from John G. Neihardt to Julius T. House, Summer 1925
  • Date: Summer, 1925
  • Author(s): Neihardt, John Gneisenau, 1881-1973
  • Recipient: House, Julius T. (Julius Temple)
  • TEI XML: nei.j4c.10.35-36.xml
August 31? [Summer 1925]
Sunday,
Dear Comrade:-

That makes two silly errors that Macmillan's readers let pass. Ordinarily, I catch such things, but I was pretty well shot when I was reading proof. The Editorial Department has apologized for the first error, and I've sent in the second. Corrections will be made in plate at once, and the errors will soon disappear. I suppose it doesn't really matter much, but I dislike it. When one knows a thing by heart, it is very hard to do a good job of proof reading. One does not really ready read; one merely repeats. In the case of these errors I said "there" and "tails" to myself and didn't really see the words at all.

The letters are at the station. It seems a shame to put you to such trouble; but now is the proper time, if ever. I do want to eliminate the snatchy stuff. I shall leave everything else. I want you to have the whole bunch back as soon as I have had a look through. Some day the stuff may be brought out. Perhaps neither you nor I shall be here then; certainly I'll not be here. It's a thousand to one shot that some third person will do the bringing out, if it's ever done; and we want third party the matter made fool-proof.

Did you see Harvey Newbranch's editorial on the 24th? It was on my letter. Pretty good editorial. World-Herald published a large picture of the monument and my mother, together with my letter. That was the 22nd, I think.

Sweet heck! I wish I could feel that I am fixed right here for a year. It bothers my planning on the Messiah to think of going on a trip in October. But my health is

Some errors in letters as World Herald printed it; but no matter
(over)
really greatly improved. Perhaps Mama told you of the wonderful stuff Miss Rentz told me about. As a result of eating it (for it's a food and not a medicine) I have taken not a bit of physic for nearly three weeks. Not three days ever passed before without my taking physic, not since I was a little kid. Miss Rentz, a highly accomplished musician, and I, a poet, as they say, talked constipation as though it were Esthetics! Delightful theme! She too has been terribly "constricted and oppilated", as Rabelnis says. Of course, we used "dude language" as much as we could, but it meant the same!
For instance, instead of using the current phrase, such as "arse-wipes", we'd employ the euphamism, "bum-gut", thus escaping unpleasant vulgarity. It was thrilling!
What you might call back-stairs gossip! Anyway, it was all about our back-stairs.

I can feel the Messiah kicking inside. I judge it's a he, by the kick. Any time I can write the opening passage. But it's too damned hot to break into a big thing. I want a touch of frost. I'm soaking in the material all the while, however; and shall be ready.

I judge that Mama must have been allowed to have a right good time clear up to the end at your place. You couldn't have done her a greater favor than to let her indulge that "rage of commonsense". She really gets joy out of that sort of thing. And O, what a time she had on the 19th! She has not yet fully regained consciousness, and has not yet written coherently about it all. Profound joy! You should have seen how she wrote about you, and of Mrs. House's "loveliness" to her.

You, I'll get extra proofs of pages, and send you a set. Perhaps you may want to write something about it.

Things are burning out here again.

Lots of love always,

Jno.