Across the Spectrum:The Interdisciplinary Life and Letters of John G. Neihardt (‘Flaming Rainbow’)

I want this to reach you before you start for Minneapolis. I had an office in the old Journal bldg on 4th St from Sep 1, 1912, to March 1 (I believe) 1913. During this time I ran a weekly page. After that I did my work (a weekly column) in Bancroft, and, after 1921, in Branson. Be sure to go over the weekly page first. There must be some amusing ones in this group, as I recall how old H. V. Jones used to come into my office chuckling to say, " Well, you had another hot one!" I remember "Sentimental Geometry" and "Wanted: A Barrel of Arnica"; but there must have been a considerable number. I think there may be some on the outburst of impressionism in 1912. That would be the early beginning of my thesis which was elaborated in the Journal-Post and, most of all, in the Post-Dispatch.

You mention my "reading" to the children. It was recitation. I used to "sing poetry" to them, as they called it. "Sing poetry, Daddy; sing poetry". I did a lot of that.

Did you find the verses to Davis, ending "Of you, 'tis, I'll be thinking when I blow off the foam"? I vaguely recall those you mention.

Yes, you certainly are right about Mignon. Nature knows nothing of morals — an obvious fact that in no way lessens the social value of morality or the spiritual value either. Beneath the troubled surface there are the unchanging depths — the universal mother — the "Ewige Weibhichkert" (Goethe's expression). My A Vision of Woman is on this theme. I assumed the Indian felt this instinctively and experienced something of the old, old, worship.