Poor Jobe he is havin it hard too. I jist cried like my heart would break as I read what he writ. I send it to you to read. I want you to return it, as it is from the only person in the world that cares for me. Here it is—you can read it for yourself. You see it was writ at different times and places. JOBE’S FIRST LETTER. ELYRIA, O., Feb. 22, 1896. _To Betsy Gaskins._ MY DEAR WIFE:—I have put off ritin to you thinkin I would be able to rite you somethin to make you happy, but to date I cant. I got into Lorain the third day arter leavin you. I found a big iron works there and lots of men at work, but on the sides of the door to their office and at all the gates around the big fence they have signs stuck up, readin: +———————————+ | NO HELP WANTED HERE. | +———————————+ I went into their office, and asked them if they couldent give me something to do. They said: “No, we have all the men we need.” I told them how I wanted somethin to do at any price; of our bein foreclosed and havin to git out and all. They shook their head and said they “had to turn away hundreds of men every day,” and told me to “look around,” I “might find work somewhere else.” So I left and went from one place to another, and everywhere I went I saw them signs and was told the same thing. I found lots of men huntin work. On nearly every street, and down along the river and over by the lake, were men a campin and a sleepin in railroad cars and outdoors; cookin by fires built along the banks and on the shore; “waitin,” they said, “till they could git a job.” I got my supper with three fellers that nite that done their cookin that way. They seemed to be nice fellers. They was from different parts of the country. [Illustration: “At all the gates around the big fence they had signs stuck up.”] That nite I got a bed for fifteen cents, and had forty-three cents left. The next day I walked and walked and walked to find work, but couldent. At nite I had twenty-four cents left. Not wantin to git clear out of money, I got into an empty box-car and slept the best I could. It was cold, and most of the nite I had to walk from one end of the car to the other, back and forth, to keep myself warm. So this mornin I come down here to Elyria, and have been from one end of the town to the other tryin to find work; but nobody seems to want to hire me. I find men stayin out around town here too. They say they have been all over the country, and cant find work anywhere. I dont know what I will do. Ile go over to Berea and see if I cant find somethin there. I will not send this letter till I git there. CLEVELAND, O., Feb. 26, 1896. BOX-CAR 1406, VALLEY RAILWAY. [Illustration: “I asked him for something to eat.”]