Mon., 25 Too much static to get morning devotions. A dark rainy day. Thunder showers & hail. I pack a crate of eggs for Anna, sort papers. Do up the morning work, get dinner & start another lunch cloth. Letter from Ruth. Herbert Burroughs draws a jag of hay from Harvey Newton’s with a team so poor & starved that they only go a few feet at a time. His cattle & horses are starved & can hardly stand up so the humane officer finds them. It is a painful case. He is out in one of the hard showers trying to push his team up the hill.
(Poor Mr. Burroughs—he had a wheel break awhile ago. I wonder what the sad story is.)