Parowan, June 8th, 1897
To the Editor: –
Nearly every Sunday our teacher asks us to write to the Juvenile Instructor. I am willing enough to write, but am one of that kind that never knows what to say.
I am my mamma’s only living boy. Seven months ago my papa died, two weeks ago my seventh sister was born, so you see I can’t spend much time writing, but must round up my shoulders to see how good a crop of corn and potatoes I can raise. It’s my watering turn today, so please excuse me. I have tried to obey my teacher and hope to improve.
Aged 11 years
Parowan, November 15th, 1897
To the Letter-Box –
Last June I wrote to the Instructor, telling the readers how I was going to raise corn and potatoes for my mamma and seven sisters. Now I will tell you of my success, both were just fine.
We had the first corn on the seventh of August, my oldest sister’s birthday. Our county fair was in September. I put a sample each of my corn and potatoes on exhibition, and my little sister Ivy made some starch from corn and quite a lot from potatoes. We each got cash prizes amounting in all to one dollar and fifty cents, with which we have subscribed for the Juvenile for three months. I paid one and one half bushels of corn for tithing. I have also worked out six weeks to get me some clothes to go to school in this winter.
Mamma says there is no “I can’t” in a boy’s life if he only makes up his mind “I will.”
Aged 11 years