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Willow Creek, Mont. May 21, 1917
Dear Fauna:
Do you know I've been wishing that you were my uncle or my grandfather or some lineal ancestor like that so that "after the war" my children could tell their children about their ancestors wonderful deeds of valor and perhaps they could have little colored buttons of some de scription and be Sons or Daughters of Something or Other - but as it is I'm afraid they can't claim much direct
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glory Oh well! I suppose I shall have to be content to have them sit around pop-eyed and listen to their Ma's second cousin once removed telling stories of the war.
I'm afraid to say anything, Fauna, because I'd rather face a German battery than call down upon my defenseless head your most gentle, but none the less biting sarcasm..
Everything is comparative in this world isn't it? Now to me your sarcasm seems the very quintescence of
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refined sarcasm and yet there be those who live in fear of mine.
The young lad of the House of Woodward here where we stay has just returned from his Freshman year at College and is the most conceited mortal I ever knew. I didn't know I'd been sarcastic to him and he's only been here three days but he told me to night he'd discovered that he had to walk a pretty straight mark or he called down upon himself biting sarcasm. Oh well it's good for all of us.
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You weren't sarcastic about the "Letters" and you did make a successful tho' patent at tempt to be tactful about them but I had to laugh at your skepticism. Fa' the luv' oh goodness, chile, don't say -- don't think I'm ramming them at you as gospel truth (Def. of truth: Webster (?) What I believe). Didn't I tell you I don't care whether they came from the other world or not -- there are some sensible ideas there, formulated out of some thing and that's what I
