From THE SELECTED LETTERS OF by William Anderson Copyright © 2016 by William Anderson. Reprinted courtesy of Harper, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

“In the days of pioneers” While Rose provided editorial suggestions for the Little House books, Laura offered historical data for her daughter’s writings. In 1937 Rose researched Free Land, a novelized version of ’s homesteading years. In this letter, Laura also recounted her family’s trials prior to the era described in By the Shores of Silver Lake.

March 23, 1937 Rose Dearest, I hope the letter Manly wrote you this A.M. will help you find out why we were so hard up in Dakota. Farming there was like the chicken business as you and Mrs. Quigley figured it out. We could get rich on paper—IF, but the “IF” was too big. Already I see I forgot to tell you something you asked. There were no Pullmans on trains west from Tracy [Minnesota]. There were only freights, a few freight cars with express and day coaches behind. We called them passenger trains because they were all the passenger trains we had. The Land Agent at the Land Office might have come from Sioux Falls or Yankton [Dakota Territory], we never knew. We think they were appointed from the Land Office in Washington. . . . In that case it would likely be by political preferment. Indian agents were appointed from Washington, as you know. If it is important to know for sure, you could likely find out by writing to someone in Yankton, perhaps the postmaster, and asking when the first trains came. It was on the trip from New York to Spring Valley that Manly and Roy ate the crackers. [Almanzo and Royal farmed the Wilder land near Malone, New York, after their family moved to new land in Spring Valley, Minnesota, during the early 1870s. The brothers traveled overland to Minnesota.] It was Richard Sears, not Harry. Manly always called him Dick. [Richard Sears, an acquaintance of Manly’s, was a cofounder of Sears, Roebuck, and Company.] The Doctor paid Manly and Roy $25 exactly to build the sod shanty on his son’s claim. [Homestead land was often claimed on speculation by easterners. The government required that the homesteader erect a dwelling on the land. The Wilders built several shanties for themselves and their sister Eliza Jane.] Manly had a bad toothache driving from Yankton to Sioux Falls. Roy stopped the horse where a sign said Dentist upstairs. Manly went up the stairs two at a time. A man there, supposed to be a dentist, said he’d pull the tooth. But he didn’t know how and couldn’t get the tooth out. He wouldn’t let go . . . climbed up on Manly’s shoulders with his knees and jerked Manly around. Finally the tooth came out. Manly had backed him into a corner and was about to beat him up when the real dentist came in. The man who pulled the tooth was an apprentice, just beginning to learn the trade. So Manly left without paying his bill, “cussing them both out” as he left. A visit to the dentist. Visits to the dentist and such like should be included in the expense account of those times. But you notice no allowance for them was figured. How about this visit to the dentist, “in the days of pioneers.” (How do you like that as a comprehensive name for my series?) As to why my family was so hard up after selling the place on the banks of Plum Creek, it is all explained in the four years not included in the series. [The story of this era was told in the Wilder autobiography Pioneer Girl, which Rose was using as reference while writing Free Land.] There was the trip to eastern Minnesota, where we stayed awhile at Uncle Peter’s because the little brother born on Plum Creek was sick. There was the expense of his sickness and death [in August 1876]. I think we went out of our way to visit Uncle Peter and Aunt Eliza because we were on the way to Burr Oak, Iowa. There Pa and Ma worked as partners with the Steadmans in the hotel. Steadman handled the money and someway beat Pa out of his share. I don’t suppose there was much. Then we were out of that [the hotel operation] with rent to pay and doctor bills. Grace was born there [in 1877] and we all had measles. And we had to eat and buy clothes and school books. Pa worked catchely here and there but never enough to pay expenses. When we left there was not enough money to pay the last month’s rent and feed us on the way back to Walnut Grove. There Pa bought a lot and built a house just on his credit. “Old Man Masters,” who used to own the hotel in Burr Oak, owned the land and lumber yard. Pa bought from him. It was not all paid for when Pa went to work on the railroad west from Tracy. He sent more back, then made some kind of bargain and turned the property back to Masters. As usual getting the worst of the bargain. But you can see where it left him. There was of course interest on the debt and I have a dim remembrance that the interest was all he had been able to pay and Masters took the property back on the debt. There were no jobs lying around to go begging while the government hired men as now. Interest was high. A man once in debt could stand small chance of getting out. I remember Pa worked for Masters at carpenter work. He worked now and then a little bit on some farm. He worked a short time in a tiny butcher shop in town. No refrigerator, no ice in the shop, and I remember when meat would be getting to its last chance, Pa would take some home on his wages, and we had plenty of meat. Mary had some sort of spinal sickness. I am not sure if the Doctor named it. [It was spinal meningitis.] She was sick a long time [April through June 1879] but the Doctor finally did save her. She was paralyzed and as she gradually recovered from her stroke her sight went. We learned later [1892] when Pa took her from De Smet to Chicago to a specialist that the nerves of her eyes were paralyzed and there was no hope. You can see that all of this cost money. I would have no idea how much. I know Pa sent money home for doctor bills after he was working for the railroad. But Pa was no businessman, He was a hunter and trapper, a musician and poet. Manly is waiting, to take this letter as he goes by the mail box. I’ll finish writing to you after he is gone. I won’t hold the letter now for you may need it in your work. Lots of love, Mama Bess