"I have come to the conclusion I could learn some language, living or dead, these long winter evenings, if you would send me some books. I read continually of an evening.... Wishing you all a merry Christmas and happy new year." "_December 31, 1884._ "Since I last wrote we have had a terrible fall of snow, but now all is clear again; that is to say, the tracks are all broken; good sleighing and sharp, cold weather. Can you realise 47° below zero? We had this for a day and a half, and it kept us pretty close to the stove. "B. calculates to buy a piece of railroad land adjoining my ranche, and we can then fence together.... He can still live with me, and we can work and help one another. The longer I stay here, the more I like the life.... Cattle grow at a surprising pace here. My neighbour, a mile north, sold ten steers at forty dollars a head, for which he was only offered twenty dollars last spring. Thank all round for Christmas cards. "The hardest thing to do now is to keep warm, and much as we try with patent socks, running round, eating fat bacon, &c., the cold will creep to our toes.... A bottle of Crosse and Blackwell's pickles, mixed with a little plum pudding of my own making, we had on Christmas Day, quite made me ill for the time being; however, a dose of horse specific soon put me right again. I really believe the sight of a mince pie would turn my stomach. Life here is without any of the festivities of Old England. If there is a dance, you invite your lady love to go with you, and pay two dollars for the privilege of dancing in a little cabin no bigger than mine (seventeen by nineteen), crowded with cowboys and farmers' daughters. As I have no lady love, nor the money to throw away, I have not given them the pleasure of my society yet. "Sister A. ought to come out and keep my house for me next summer. Tell her I will build an addition to the mansion if she will come. The mountain air will do her good." "_March 14, 1885._ "I have been expecting to hear from you, I may say, very anxiously.... _Any_ letter would be better than none at all. I feel it all the more here, as I have been doing my very best to get ahead. I am still convinced that I can do well here if I can once get ahead. A little bunch of stock, and my debts cleared, and I can then go right ahead.... To-day is my birthday. By next year, if I live, I shall be gray-headed. Snow still a foot deep, though disappearing." "_May 17, 1885._