I deeply regretted Lieut. Whitney's death in Cuba, and I
watched Major Worth's career in the last war. It nearly broke my
heart that I could not go. Oh, the rattle of the war drum and the
bugle calls and the marching troops, it set me crazy, and me not
able to take a hand in the scrap.
Mrs. Summerhays calls him Wm. T. Worth, isn't it Wm. S. Worth?
The copy I have read was loaned me by Captain Baird; he says it's
a Christmas gift from General Carter, and I must return it. My
poor wife has read it with keen interest and says she: "William,
I am going to have that book for my children," and she'll get it,
yea, verily! she will.
Well, Colonel, I'm right glad to know that you are still on this
side of the great divide, and I know that you and Mrs. S. will be
glad to hear from an old "walk-a-heap" of the 8th.
I am working for a Cumberland newspaper - Lonaconing reporter - and
I will send you a copy or two of the paper with this. And now,
permit me to subscribe myself your
Comrade In Arms,
WILLIAM A. GURNETT.
Dear Mrs. Summerhayes:
Read your book - in fact when I got started I forgot my bedtime
(and you know how rigid that is) and sat it through.
It has a bully note of the old army - it was all worthwhile - they
had color, those days.
I say - now suppose you had married a man who kept a drug
store - see what you would have had and see what you would have
missed.
Yours, FREDERIC REMINGTON.
End of Vanished Arizona, by Martha Summerhayes
