_Dear Daddy_: If the burro comes home please shut him up in the lot. He's gone somewhere and we can't find him. Anyhow it don't make much difference, for Jack says he'd rather carry his share of the stuff on his back than bother with a pack burro again. There ain't going to be much grub to take back anyhow. The man down the creek gave us some more bacon for what the hogs ate up and said we were welcome to all the green corn we wanted from his field. We had just corn for supper last night and breakfast today. The salt all got wet in the rain and melted up, so we didn't have any, but Billy says lots of times on the plains people didn't have any salt for weeks at a time. I'll bet they didn't have nothing but green corn to eat, though. Please tell mother that I burned a hole in one of my shoes trying to dry them out by the campfire. Also about six inches off the bottom of one leg of my pajamas. They were hanging on a stick by the fire drying while we made the bed. Billy said he smelt cloth a-burning, but we never saw where it was till the harm was done. If mother won't mind I'm sure I won't, for Billy says no soldier or cowboy ever wore pajamas. It was my old pair of shoes anyhow, and they always hurt my heel when I walked, so they don't matter either. Camping out's sure lots of fun. Your loving son, DICK. P. S. The man down the creek says he's going to town pretty soon and if we want to ride in with him we can. I wonder what made him think of it. P. S. A wasp stung me on the lip yesterday. He lit on an ear of corn just as I went to bite. It don't hurt at all, leastways I'd be ashamed if I made as much fuss about it as Jack did when one bit him. Besides a wasp bite on the lip's lots worser than one on the neck--that's what the man down the creek says. Camp Roosevelt. _Dear Daddy_: Yesterday we sure had a great time playing "Pirates" without any shirts on--for Billy says pirates always dress that way--just their trousers on, "naked to the waist," he says. I was the pirate chief, and Billy was my crew. Jack he was the captain of the vessel and stood on the log to defend the gangway of his ship. We had cutlasses made out of lath and when we told Jack to surrender he called us cowardly pirates and dared us to step on board his ship. Then we went for him and was having a great old time when Jack's foot slipped and he fell off the log into the creek. He got mad at me and Billy, 'cause we laughed at him when he bumped his head on the log as he went down. I wisht we could camp out here forever. DICK. P. S. What's good for a burnt finger where you burnt it trying to pick the coffee pot off the fire to keep it from boiling over? Camp Roosevelt. _Dear Dad_: If there's a funny smell to this letter it's on account of the skunk. The man down the creek says if we bury our clothes in the ground for two or three days the smell will all come off.