Now the book was dramatized and produced, with Hackett as John Ermine, at the Globe Theatre in September of 1902--the hottest weather ever on record in Boston at that season. Of course seats were reserved for us; we were living at Nantucket that year, and we set sail at noon to see the great production. We snatched a bite of supper at a near-by hotel in Boston and hurried to the theatre, but being late, had some difficulty in getting our seats. The curtain was up and there sat Hackett, not with long yellow hair (which was the salient point in the half-breed scout) but rather well-groomed, looking more like a parlor Indian than a real live half-breed, such as all we army people knew. I thought "this will never do." The house was full, Hackett did the part well, and the audience murmured on going out: "a very artistic success." But the play was too mystical, too sad. It would have suited the "New Theatre" patrons better. I wrote him from Nantucket and criticized one or two minor points, such as the 1850 riding habits of the women, which were slouchy and unbecoming and made the army people look like poor emigrants and I received this letter in reply: WEBSTER AVENUE, NEW ROCHELLE, N. Y. My dear Mrs. S., Much obliged for your talk--it is just what we want--proper impressions. I fought for that long hair but the management said the audience has got to, have some Hackett--why I could not see--but he is a matinee idol and that long with the box office. We'll dress Katherine up better. The long rehearsals at night nearly killed me--I was completely done up and came home on train Monday in that terrific heat and now I am in the hands of a doctor. Imagine me a week without sleep. Hope that fight took Jack back to his youth. For the stage I don't think it was bad. We'll get grey shirts on their men later. The old lady arrives to-day--she has been in Gloversville. I think the play will go--but, we may have to save Ermine. The public is a funny old cat and won't stand for the mustard. Well, glad you had a good time and of course you can't charge me up with the heat. Yours, FREDERICK R. Remington made a trip to the Yellowstone Park and this is what he wrote to Jack. His letters were never dated. My dear Summerhayes: Say if you could get a few puffs of this cold air out here you would think you were full of champagne water. I feel like a d--- kid-- I thought I should never be young again--but here I am only 14 years old--my whiskers are falling out. Capt. Brown of the 1st cav. wishes to be remembered to you both. He is Park Superintendent. Says if you will come out here he will take care of you and he would. Am painting and doing some good work. Made a "govt. six" yesterday. In the course of time, he bought an Island in the St. Lawrence and they spent several summers there. On the occasion of my husband accepting a detail in active service in Washington at the Soldiers' Home, after his retirement, he received the following letter.