Dear Lucile:

You did write (a fine, long letter too!), and it did rain (2 inches of precious water right on my just-planted wheat field)!

That was a good letter, and it broke the drouth! More rain yesterday and last night!

Had a fine time on the trip East. I told you about the dinner. We had a distinguished company. Did I tell you that the Director of the Museum of the American Indian came? I noted an unexpected deference in the guests, and though — well, you know. And the introduction was a wow. They surely did respond with a big bang. I really did pretty well with the talk about Black Elk. It was smooth, and they sat motionless. Fine time at Cornell too. I took a Greyhound from N. Y. to Ithaca in order to see the fall colors in the Pennsylvania mountains The colors in New York state in the region of Ithaca were especially amazing. It seemed an enchanted land.

I took two classes. In one I talked about the creative process in literature (and, of course, all the arts.) The class was mature, seniors & graduates — very fine young people and really interested. Then for another class I gave The Death of Crazy Horse. Then the general audience lecture was on Black Elk. These subjects were by request.

That's a fine project of yours — the survey of all my work! You will do something excellent, and I hope it will be written out, so that I may see it.

Do you know, Lucile, it seemed in N. Y. that many were aware of me and who perhaps had read nothing of mine; and that deference was certainly marked. That is a knowing observation of yours about my being now in a "different key". That is the difference. We'll see what the Macmillan lady writes me.


Sandy Gray & his wife came to see me just before school started. They were happy over Sandy's new job at the U. of So. Dak. at Vermilion ​. (The job includes tape recording.). They were moving their trailer up there. Sandy made another promise — to send me a copy of my lyrics recording, so that I could have several discs made here. I have not heard from him since then. Perhaps he has been too busy. That recording is very good. It was made several years ago when I read and talked to a packed group at the Episcopalian church. The talk is rather good and wholly off-hand. I'll write old Sandy & see if I can budge him.

I often think old of old man Stewart. I do admire him as well as feel a warm affection for him. Surely he is highly exceptional in character and intelligence. Tell him I said "How Kola!")

And I do long to play tug-of-war with Perky and I do tickle happily when I think of her (Sweet, sweet doggie!) Yo-Yo can travel to town and go scent reading in safety now, for she wears a tag that gives her telephone number. (If boy dogs could read, our 'phone would be busy!) I'll bet it is a big job, chasing leaves this time of year. I don't see how one little dog can do everything a dog should do; and all the barking too!

My wheat is up, and, God willing, I shall be a wealthy man, come harvest. I didn't make a cent on my flying this time either. $50,000 insurance, and no accident! Seems a poor way to get rich.

I know you have much to occupy your time, but I do want to hear from you at least once every year or so. I'm going to write a big hello to Bower, I think often of him too.


John N.