Homer Jarrett
9 Walnut St.
Hot Springs, Ark
2730 Kenwood Ave
Indianapolis Ind.
March 2, 1905
Dear Homer
Your paper was received and I thank you for sending it to me. Very glad to hear that your mother is improving so nicely and that you will not be obliged to return home. It seems strange that it all happens while you are away but it seems that way, that when we would most have things do nicely and run smoothly – it most assuredly goes just the contrary.
You asked me if I still followed the advice of Mr. McFadden. Well to speak confidentially I think that I’ve neglected in some things, but the main and most important, I have followed closely as I hope ever to do. I am sorry that you have neglected also.
Our fire, which you mentioned, was not so very bad Homer, only about one half a block. Of course it was bad in a way it burned and smoked for two days. I have forgotten the cause of it, if indeed I ever knew. I was not interested in it, only that through it many poor men would find employment. The building at the corner of Mer(idian) & Wash(ington) the S.W. Cor(ner) is being torn down to make room for a large department store of L.S. Ayres.
O Homer, I almost forgot to tell you that I visited Allen Chapel Sunday Eve. There was an illustrated sermon with stereoscopic views, which was very good. Don’t you know I never tire of them. When I was real little I would be delighted with a series of these pictures and I am almost the same now. There was one set of pictures accompanied by a beautiful song entitled the or I should have said “Down on the Farm” which I thought just lovely. I never heard it before and I think I shall try and get it if I can.
Last night we had some company and someone had brought the game of “Pit”. It derived it’s name from it’s allusions to Wall Street. Really Homer it is great. I really enjoyed it.
I have tried your patience surely I know haven’t I, Homer. O, it takes so much scribbling to say such a little, where as in speaking in only a few minutes we can say so much.
When are you coming home or, I beg your pardon, back to Indianapolis?
Sincerely
Pearl Doris Reed
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