Saturday, August 26: Diary, I am so thrilled I can hardly write, and who would not be, to think that Kate and I start tonight on our wonderful trip and will be away from work and grimy old Chi for two whole weeks. But I simply know that something will happen between now and ten o’clock to prevent us going; mother will get sick or I will wake up and find it is “all a dream,” or something. I would simply die if something did happen, but I just won’t let anything happen, and that settles it.

Kate just called up, and when I went to the phone she said she had decided not to go, after all. I believe I would of died if she had not laughed right after she said it, and then I knew she was joking. Kate is an awful tease, but the dearest girl in the world, and I could not of loved a sister more than she. I believe she and I are really closer to each other than most sisters, and it is funny we should be as we are as opposite as two girls could be in disposition and character and appearance and everything. I am serious, though I have a keen sense of humor, while Kate is always looking at the funny side of things, and when we are together she keeps me simply screaming at the things she says and does. I believe I do a lot more thinking than she and try to get at the bottom of things. As for appearance, while she is a dear girl, she is not a bit pretty. She is dark; dark hair and brown eyes, and does not take any care of her complexion. She wears glasses, and she is large enough to make two of poor little me. I am five feet five, and slender; golden, wavy hair; eyes that are sometimes blue and sometimes violet; good features and a good complexion. It is funny we should get along so well, being so unlike; but maybe it is because of the contrast between us that we are such good friends; and, of course, when she makes some remark about my looks, I always laugh it off, and say that beauty is only “skin deep,” or something.

What I envy about Kate is her nerve. She is positively not afraid of anything. It was she who suggested spending our vacation on a trip to Yellowstone Park. I would never of dared think about it myself. When she first sprung it, one day last June, when we were coming down on the “L,” I thought she must be up to one of her practical jokes, but for once she was in dead earnest.

“Let’s have one good time, girlie,” was the way she put it.

“But listen, Kate,” was my reply; “it would cost a million dollars. You talk like we were Hetty Gould, or something.”

“It will cost just about $125 apiece,” was her reply “Yes, but that is nearly $125 more than either of us have,” I said.

“Speak for yourself, girlie,” was her reply. “I am only shy twenty dollars myself, and we don’t have to go till the last of August. You just quit plunging in silk stockings and other things that nobody ever sees, and save up every penny between now and then, and, if it isn’t enough, I will be your uncle for the difference.”

“You would make a fine uncle, Kate,” I said laughingly. “I never heard of a girl being an uncle.”

Of course, I knew what she meant, but I was just joking her. Well, there is no arguing with Kate when her mind is made up. I tried to tell her how crazy it was, and how we would both have to go without a fall suit, and wear our last winter coats and everything; but I might as well of been talking to a stone or something. She said she was sick and tired of St. Joe and South Haven, and all the resorts around Chi, and if I did not make the trip with her she would go alone; and she did not think it would be proper for a girl to go alone on such a trip.

“Would it be proper for two girls?” I inquired.

“Sure it would,” was her reply. “Della and Paula Ingles made the trip two years ago, and had a perfectly wonderful time, and everybody in the party treated them grand and did their best to show them a good time. It’s always a great big party that makes the trips, and there is a man in charge and everything. We will be just as safe as though we were home.”

Well, I had to give in, and mother said it was all right with her when she understood that we were going with a large party and would be looked after by the man who has charge of these trips; and I have decided to keep a diary of the trip that will only be for my eyes alone, and I can read it in after years and enjoy the trip all over again.

I thought this day would never come, but it did, and now I must call up some of the girls and tell them goodbye. Bruce Patterson and Don Kellogg both said they would be down to the station and see me off. I hope they will pay a little attention to Kate.

Sunday, August 27: We are on our way at last, and now nothing can stop us only a train wreck or something; and the man in charge of the trip says there is no danger of that, as the cars are all made of steel; and even if we had a collision it could not smash up the steel cars; and besides, the railroad has a double track most of the way, and the cars going one way run on one track, and the cars going the other way run on the other track. His name is Mr. Garrett, and he is grand to us; always asking if there is something he can do, and how are we getting along, etc.

Bruce Patterson and Don Kellogg were down to the train last night to see me off. Bruce brought me a perfectly dear bouquet of carnations and Don Kellogg gave me a big, five-pound box of chocolates. I wish one of them had thought to of brought something for Kate; and I was terribly embarrassed when there was no one there to see her off only her sister and her brother-in-law; but I tried to make it easy for her by pretending the boys had come to say goodbye to both of us, and that the candy and flowers were meant for her as well as I; but, of course, she knew better. I was also embarrassed by Bruce and Don both being there together; and they simply looked daggers at each other. Í hope they did not quarrel or do anything foolish after we left. I tried to treat them both alike, but Don was the boldest of the two, and followed us right into the car; and right in front of Kate he asked me to kiss him goodbye.

“Don,” I said, “you know that is impossible. I will never allow a man to kiss me till I am his fiancéd bride.”

Poor boy, I could not help from feeling sorry for him. He looked like he had lost his last friend.

“Kate,” I said, after he had got off the train and we had started, “I sometimes wish I was as homely as a mud fence or something. It makes me feel perfectly terrible to have a man look at me like Don did just now. Maybe I am too softhearted.”

She did not say anything, and I was sorry I had said anything about it, as probably it reminded her that nobody had been down to see her off only her sister and brother-in-law. I would not hurt her feelings for the world. I hate to hurt anybody, and that is why I feel so sorry for Bruce and Don, because, though I care for both a great deal as a friend, I do not believe I could ever love either one of them enough to marry them. The man I marry must take me by storm; and besides, I seriously doubt if I will ever marry, as I love my freedom above everything.

Our party is divided into two sleeping-cars. When we got on the train last night most of the seats had been made into beds for the night. Kate and I had No. 3; and when I looked inside it and saw how small it was, I remarked that I did not see how we were going to be able to sleep together in it on account of Kate being so large; though, of course, I did not say that. The colored man who takes care of the car said he had also fixed us up a bed up above the one below, and one of us could sleep up there.

Heavens! I remarked. “I would be afraid of rolling out.”

So Kate said she would not mind sleeping up there at all; and when I asked her if she really meant it, she said she did, so I said if she would promise to let me sleep up there tonight I would let her sleep there last night. She had to climb up to it on a funny little ladder and undress after she got up there. But, really, it was less embarrassing for her than I, as I had to undress right down where everybody was walking through behind a curtain. When I finally did get in bed, I hardly slept at all, as there was so much noise and jar.

It was perfectly terrible dressing this morning. All the ladies have to wash and do their hair in one dinky little room, with the train going all the time, and you can hardly stand up. I am afraid I look a fright, but there is one comfort. At least “there are others.”

Mr. Garrett says there are about thirty-five people in our party. Most of them are elderly married couples around forty, and some of their children. Then there is two old girls that look like they had come out of the ark or something. One of them was in the dressing-room while I was there this morning, and we were both using the looking-glass at the same time, and she kept pushing me and annoying me till I lost my temper, and asked her if she could not act like a lady, even if she wasn’t one.

“Are you going to hog the looking-glass all day?” she said. “You have been brushing your hair nearly an hour.”

“Well,” was my reply, “my hair isn’t like yours, that if you brushed it two minutes there would not be any left to brush.”

After that she kept still and quit annoying me. Then there are three or four young boys about seventeen that think they are just about right. One of them keeps looking at me all the time, and when I catch him at it, he turns as red as fire. Poor kid, but he ought to be thinking about something besides girls three or four years his elder.

Besides those I have mentioned, there are two young men who must be just out of college, or possibly are still students. They are dandy-looking fellows, and dress in perfect taste; stylish but not loud. Mr. Garrett has introduced us to several of our fellow travelers, but as yet we have not met these young men. Personally, I do not care to meet them, as it would probably make things uncomfortable for Kate, as she is not one of the kind of girl that attract men, and I am afraid she would feel sort of out of it. I want her to enjoy herself on this trip as much as possible, as she does not get much pleasure out of life, with all her joking ways, which I sometimes think she puts on to hide her inner feelings.

Mr. Garrett says we are almost at Omaha, so I will put this away for the time.

Monday, August 28: Well, diary, here we are nearly at the end of the second day of our journey, and I am enjoying it more every minute. In spite of not wishing to make the acquaintance of the two young men I mentioned yesterday on account of Kate, we met them at breakfast in the dining-car this morning, and it came about in a way so that I could not avoid it without being rude. Last night I was tired out and went to bed early, before Kate did, and, without thinking, I got in the lower bed again, and Kate slept up above, like the first night, and this morning she waited till I got through dressing, because she said she could dress easier in the lower bed, so she told me to go in the dining-car and order our breakfast and she would join me later.

So when I got in the dining-car there was one table for two people left; and then there was a table for four, with nobody sitting at it only the two college men; and at first I was going to sit down at the smaller table, but one of the chairs at it was facing backward, and it makes me sick to ride that way, even on the “L”; and I thought, perhaps, it might make Kate sick, too; and the men at the larger table were both riding backward, and the two vacant seats were both facing forward, so I hesitated a minute, and then one of the men got up and smiled, and said: “There is lots of room here.” I am afraid I blushed furiously, but there was nothing left to do only for me to sit down at their table; and I had hardly no more than got seated when Mr. Garrett came up to our table.

“I was looking for a chance to introduce you young folks,” he said, “but I see you are already acquainted.”

“No, I am afraid not, Mr. Garrett,” I replied, smiling slightly. “But it makes both my girlfriend and I sick to ride backward, and as one of these gentlemen was kind enough to invite me to sit here, I accepted, as I expect my girlfriend to join me in a few minutes.”

“Then I am not too late to do my duty,” said Mr. Garrett. “Mr. Coles, allow me to make you acquainted with Miss Emerson. And the other gentleman is Mr. Lester, Miss Emerson.”

Mr. Garrett remained chatting with us till Kate came in. Then he introduced her to Mr. Coles and Mr. Lester, and left us. I watched both of the men’s faces when they were introduced to Kate, and was glad to see that they were gentlemanly enough to receive her as politely as they had received me.

“Well, girlie,” said Kate after Mr. Garrett left, “I am half starved and the other half hungry. What have you ordered for us to eat?”

Then I realized that I had forgotten all about ordering our breakfast, and I am afraid I blushed furiously. I stammered something about not having seen a bill-of-fare and no waiter having been at our table since my arrival. Mr. Lester came to my rescue.

“It’s Coles’s fault, Miss Hayes,” he said, smiling at Kate. “He has a delicate appetite, like a truck horse; and the order he gave the dinge will keep the chef busy clear to Ogden.”

I could not help from laughing at the way he put it. He says perfectly screaming things, and I thought I would simply die before breakfast was over. We were going through Wyoming, and most of it is just nothing but desert; but once in a while there is a small town; and right after we had passed through one of these little towns, Mr. Coles asked what town it was.

“I could not see the town,” was Mr. Lester’s reply. “There was a boxcar in front of it.”

“How are you enjoying the trip?” Mr. Coles asked me.

“I think it is just wonderful,” was my reply.

“The scenery gets better farther west,” said Mr. Lester.

“I think the scenery is great already, especially inside the car,” said Mr. Coles; and the way he looked at me I could not help from blushing.

“I am afraid you are a great jollier, Mr. Coles,” I said, embarrassed; but another remark of Mr. Lester’s soon had us all laughing again.

“Did you see all that corn in Nebraska yesterday?” he inquired.

“Yes,” was my reply.

“Aren’t you glad you did not have it all on your feet?” he said, and I thought I would simply fall out of my chair.

When the waiter came in with the men’s order they insisted on sharing it with us till the waiter could fill our own. I thought it was dandy of them to think of it, and I was glad for Kate’s sake, as I could see she was embarrassed and I could think of nothing to say, and having something eat put her more at ease.

I wish I could remember all the witty remarks Mr. Lester made; and the other people in the car must of thought it was a regular vaudeville show at our table to hear us laugh. He and Mr. Coles are as different than each other as Kate and I. Mr. Lester is a regular clown, and as good as a show. Mr. Coles is more serious, and looks like there was more to him. I believe he is the kind of a man that would get anything they wanted, and I am afraid a poor little girl like me would not have a chance if he took it into his head that I was the girl he wanted. The way he looked at me at breakfast, and after we all came back to our own car, I am afraid of him already; and I think I will try and keep out of his way as much as possible. Seriously, I would hate awfully to wound a man like he; and, of course, it is absurd to imagine me becoming engaged to a man I met on a trip of this kind, and really know nothing about him except that he is a gentleman and very good-looking. He is tall and dark, and I bet he and I make a striking contrast together. Mr. Lester is not quite as tall, and has light hair and a fair complexion. You can see that both of them have traveled a great deal and are well educated.

We four chatted together a few minutes after we got back to our car, and then Kate excused herself, saying she was going to read, and I did not feel like sitting with the two men, so I excused myself also, and have been busy writing ever since.

We are due at Ogden this afternoon, and from there we go to Salt Lake City, where we will have a chance to get off the train and stretch our limbs before tonight’s ride, which will take us to Yellowstone.

Tuesday, August 29: “When you come to the end of a perfect day” expresses the way I feel tonight better than any poor words of mine could tell it. Kate has gone to bed, but, though I have been riding and walking in the open air since early this morning, I know that was I to retire there would be no sleep for me, as my heart is too full of all I have seen and heard, and I feel like I must set it down while it is still fresh in my memory.

We did not see much of Salt Lake City yesterday afternoon, but we are to stop over there a whole day on our way back. When we got on the Yellowstone train last evening, Kate made the remark that she was worn out and was going right to bed.

“The boys have asked us to sit up awhile and play cards with them,” I said.

“What boys?” she asked.

“You know perfectly well,” was my reply. “Mr. Coles and Mr. Lester.”

“Well, you can play cards with them if you want to,” said Kate, “but I would rather sleep laying down than sitting up playing cards.”

“Kate,” I said, “I do not believe you are having a good time.”

“Sure I am,” was her reply. “I came out here to rest and see the scenery and not sit up all night playing cards with a couple of chorus men.”

“Chorus men,” I said. “You know very well they are no such a thing. They are men of the world and college graduates.”

“Yes,” she said, “graduates from Boler’s Barber College.”

I could see from her spiteful remarks what was the matter. Neither Mr. Coles or Mr. Lester had made a fuss over her, and she was taking it to heart.

“Listen, Kate,” I said, “I believe I know how you feel. But if you are going to act that way it will spoil my whole trip. Remember, dearie, that looks are not everything in this world, and when these boys have had a chance to get better acquainted with you, and know you as well as I do, they will see what a grand, good-hearted, bright, clever girl you are. Don’t be foolish, dearie, but let us get all the enjoyment we can out of our vacation.”

“That is just what I am doing,” was her reply, “only my idea of a good time is different than yours.”

I saw there was no use arguing with her, and I said good night and went back to where the boys were sitting to tell them our card game was off.

“What’s the idea?” asked Mr. Lester.

“My girlfriend, Miss Hayes, is tired out and does not feel well,” was my reply.

“Probably she got a good look at herself in the glass,” said Mr. Lester, and though I bit my lips till they almost bled, I could not help from laughing. But when I had controlled myself again, I said:

“You ought not to make a remark like that, Mr. Lester. Miss Hayes is my dearest friend, and I will not stand for anybody making unkind remarks about her.”

“Do you and she always pal around together?” he asked.

“We certainly do,” was my reply.

“It’s always the way,” said Mr. Lester. “A pippin and a prune are always coupled in the betting.”

“I don’t understand your slang expressions, Mr. Lester,” I said. “But I assure you you can look a long ways before you will find Kate Hayes’s equal.”

“I assure you I won’t even try,” he replied, “because when I found it I would not know what to do with it.”

I felt guilty sitting there listening to remarks like that, witty as they were, so after awhile I excused myself and retired.

When we wakened this morning we were nearly to Yellowstone Station, and we only just had time to dress and get our baggage ready when we were there. There was four stage coaches waiting to take our party through the park. Of course, I wanted to sit alongside of Kate, but before I realized it I was in the second seat of the first coach, with Mr. Coles on the one side of me and Mr. Lester on the other. Kate was in the driver’s seat with the driver and Mr. Garrett. In the other seats was a married couple and their little boy, and the two old girls that I had an unpleasant time with one of them in the dressing-room the morning after we left Chi.

I wish I was gifted with the pen so as I could describe all we have seen today. I will try and remember as much of it as possible and do the best I can, which is all anybody can do.

First we drove through what they call “Xmas tree park” and they call it that because the trees are the kind they use for Xmas trees. They are beautiful. Soon we were at Madison River and it is a small river, but very beautiful. We passed many points of interest, including some groups of tents where people can come and rent all summer and live in them. I just loved them. I said to Mr. Coles:

“Would not you just love to come and live here all summer?”

“It would depend on who was here with me,” was his reply, and I am afraid I blushed furiously.

On both sides of the river there was high mountains that were perfectly gorgeous and different than anything I had ever seen. Between eleven and noon we came to our first stop at the Fountain Hotel where we stopped and had lunch and it is one of the highest points in the U.S. and over 7,000 miles above the sea level. There was a great many points of interest around there which is called the “Lower Geyser Basin.” The geysers were simply wonderful and different than anything I had ever seen.

“Did you ever see anything more beautiful?” I said to Mr. Coles.

“Nothing that was not human,” he replied.

“Mr. Coles,” I said, trying to speak lightly, “I am afraid you are a great jollier.”

He turned to Kate.

“You do not think so, do you, Miss Hayes?” he said; and poor Kate was so embarrassed she did not know what to say. She is not used to fencing back and forth with men of the other sex.

Besides the geysers there was the Mammoth Paint Pots, and they are the most wonderful things I have ever seen, and they bubble up and down all the time like paint pots. And then there was the pools that are all different colors and boiling all the time, and Mr. Garrett told us there was a guide fell into one of them just a week ago, and before they could get him out he was burned to death though he was a fine swimmer on account of the water being so hot.

“That bird was prepared for Hades before he got there,” said Mr. Lester, and I tried not to laugh, because he said something stronger than Hades; but he put it so funny one could not take offense. Imagine calling a man a bird.

Before it was time for us to get in the coach again, we went back of the hotel where they keep the garbage and the bears come up and get it, and sure enough there was two huge bears coming up for their dinner just as we got there. I thought I would scream when I saw them, and, without realizing it, I dashed over to where Mr. Coles was standing and took a hold of his arm.

“Oh, Mr. Coles,” I said, “are you sure they won’t come after us?”

“You are in no danger from a bear when his taste runs to garbage,” he said.

I am really beginning to think Mr. Coles cannot say anything to a girl without turning it into a compliment. Mr. Garrett told us the bears were really very tame and would eat out of a person’s hand, and that they liked sugar better than anything. Imagine a bear eating sugar; but Mr. Garrett says they do.

The drive from the Fountain Hotel to Old Faithful was simply heavenly. There was several points of interest in rout, including what they call the “Morning Glory Pool,” because they made it to look just like a morning glory. But the most beautiful sight of all was Old Faithful Geyser, which is the geyser right near Old Faithful Inn, where I am now sitting in Kate’s and my room writing. This geyser is simply gorgeous and different than all the others, because it comes up at regular intervals of about every hour and everybody goes down to watch it and tonight when it was dark after supper and it was time for it to throw up again, they turned a searchlight on it from the roof of the hotel, and it was simply gorgeous. Mr. Garrett and Mr. Lester took me down to see it. Mr. Coles said the wind had made him sleepy, and he was going to bed right after supper. Kate said she was sleepy, too, but I guess the poor girl is not having a good time and wanted to be alone. After we had seen Old Faithful by night we walked round awhile and then sat in front of the log fire in the hotel, and Mr. Lester kept us in an uproar.

The hotel itself is perfectly wonderful, and all made out of logs and pieces of wood and matches each other perfectly. Mr. Garrett says it took years to build it and it cost two hundred and fifty million dollars.

When I came into the room Kate was sound asleep, and I could not help from feeling sorry for her. Imagine going to bed early in a place like this and on such a night. But it is after midnight now and time for a certain little girl I know to go to bed herself, so she can get her “beauty sleep” and look her best tomorrow, because⁠—But I don’t know of anyone here who cares if she looks her best or not; do you, diary?

Wednesday, August 30: If we thought we were seeing wonders yesterday what about today, and it almost seems like there could not be anything more beautiful in heaven than some of the things that was on our rout today.

But there was an occurrence this morning that somewhat marred the pleasure of our drive from Old Faithful to the place we stopped for lunch. Everybody thought, of course, we would occupy the same seats in the coach like we did yesterday, at least I am sure most of us did, and we would of only for those two old impossible cats that sat in the back seat yesterday. They hurried through their breakfast and rushed out to the porch and climbed into the coach first, and took the second seat; and you can bet nobody was going to sit with them. I expect they thought Mr. Lester or Mr. Coles or somebody was going to climb in with them, just as though they were not old enough to be their grandmother. Then when we came out and saw it, Kate said to me:

“Girlie, you sit up in front because you can see so much better.”

So Mr. Lester helped me up in front, and Kate got in the back seat and Mr. Coles got in there with her, because he was standing back that way, and it would of seemed rude for him to come up in front. And then Mr. Lester said he supposed Mr. Garrett, being in charge, always sat in the front, and Mr. Lester went in the back seat, too, and the man and his wife and little boy were in the third seat, and that left myself and Mr. Garrett and the driver for the front seat.

I was terribly embarrassed for Kate’s sake, because I cannot imagine what she could of talked about to those two boys, and I knew they were disappointed, too, but were trying to make the best of it and at first Mr. Garrett seemed to realize how ridiculous it was and did not do much talking, but after a while the two chatterboxes on the second seat began asking him questions, and he had to answer them, but some of the things he told them were simply screaming, and I could see he was making regular fools of them. He told them, for instance, that the tourists in the park were called dudes, and those that drove autos were called toot dudes, and the driver on our coach was called a scissors bill, because he drove four horses, and the help in the park were called heavers and savages, and when a man and a girl went out for a spoon in the dark they called it rotten-logging, because the only place they could sit down would be on one of the old dead logs. And the worst of it was that the two old girls took it all in and giggled and tee-heed like they had no idea they were being made a fool of.

But the scenery was simply heavenly, though most of the way we were driving right on the edge of the canyon, and I was simply petrified sometimes for fear one of the horses would make a misstep and we would all be killed, and I wished more than once that Mr. Coles was sitting beside me, and I know I would not of felt half as nervous if he had of. He is one of the kind of man that a girl feels perfectly safe when they are together.

About noon we came to the place where they serve lunch, and they call it the “Thumb” because it is a part of Yellowstone Lake. The view of the lake was perfectly heavenly, and there was a soldiers’ camp there. Mr. Garrett said they have to keep soldiers in the park all the time on account of Mexico being so close.

When it came time to leave the “Thumb,” I saw to it that there would not be another embarrassing situation like in the a.m. I made believe to Kate that it made me dizzy to ride in the front seat, and she got up there, and I called Mr. Coles over to one side and asked him would he not ride in the back seat with me, as I had something important to tell him, so when we started he and myself were in the back seat, and the father and mother and little boy in their regular place, and Mr. Garrett and Kate and the driver in front, and poor Mr. Lester in the second seat with the two old girls. I would of felt sorry for him, only I knew he must be enjoying himself making fools of them, When we got started Mr. Coles said:

“Well, Miss Emerson, what is the big secret?”

“What do you mean, Mr. Coles?” I asked.

“You said you had something to tell me,” was his reply!

“Oh,” was my reply, “that was just a little piece of stradegy on my part. I could see how uncomfortable it was for all of us this morning.”

“I was perfectly comfortable,” he said.

“I do not mean physical comfort, Mr. Coles,” I said pointedly.

“Well,” was his reply, “I cannot think of any way I was not comfortable.”

“It’s dandy of you to act that way about it,” I said, “but I knew how you must feel, and I know Kate felt the same way.”

“I hope so,” he said.

“Surely you do not mean that, Mr. Coles,” I said. “You do not want to embarrass the poor girl to death.”

“She did not act embarrassed,” he said.

“Oh, Mr. Coles, I am afraid you are a fibber,” I said, but I just loved the way he stood up for Kate. I like a man to be chivalrous to the entire feminine sex, no matter who they are, but of course I liked it specially in this case on account of Kate being my dearest girlfriend and chum.

The drive from the “Thumb” to the Lake Hotel took over two hours, and Mr. Coles was silent a good deal of the way. I did not mind, in fact, I was glad he was, for I felt in a silent mood myself. Sometimes just being together is enough, without words to spoil it. “Silence is golden and often speaks plainer than words.” Two or three times the party in the third seat turned round and tried to start a conversation, but we both discouraged them, though Mr. Coles answered whatever questions they asked pleasantly and I smiled at the little boy. One of my strongest instincts is my love for children, and I would of tried to win his little heart had there not been even stronger feelings tugging at my own.

As we approached the Lake Hotel we caught sight of the most wonderful sight of all and different than anything I have ever seen. It was the mountain across the lake, called the “Sleeping Giant” because it is shaped like a man’s head asleep.

It was Mr. Garrett who called our attention to it and called to us to look at it from the front seat.

“Oh, how simply heavenly,” I exclaimed, and without realizing it my hand reached out to Mr. Coles’s and grasped it tight. When I realized what I had done I nearly died of embarrassment and I am afraid I blushed furiously.

“Mr. Coles,” I said when I could recover command of my voice, “I hope you will pardon me. I am different than other girls and when I am deeply moved my feelings often gets the best of me and I do things unconsciously that I would never think of doing was I not moved right out of myself and when I realize what I have done I nearly die of embarrassment. But I hope you will not think any the worse of me.”

“Not a bit, Miss Emerson,” was his reply and he gave me the nicest smile.

But my face simply burned and I had not entirely recovered myself when the coach stopped at the Lake Hotel. My only comfort was that we had been on the back seat when it happened where none of the others could see us, and also that it had been Mr. Coles instead of a man of less character and less of a gentleman.

As soon as we reached the hotel Kate and myself hurried to our room to tidy up as the ride had been dusty.

“Kate,” I said to her when we were alone, “I hope you had a good enough time this afternoon to make up for this morning.”

“Well, girlie,” was her reply, “if you ask me, it was about fifty fifty. But what do you mean?”

“You know all right, Kate,” I said. “I could see you were simply dying on that back seat with those two boys this morning.”

“If that was dying I hope to die,” said Kate, and I saw she intended to laugh it off so I let the subject drop.

After supper tonight Mr. Coles and Mr. Lester and Mr. Garrett all disappeared somewhere, and I suppose Mr. Coles was forced into a card game or something though I know he would of given anything to get out of it. Kate and myself sat in the lobby for a little while and then I suggested coming here to the room as I wanted to do my writing, but Kate said she was not ready to come just then.

“But what are you going to do?” I asked her.

“I am going for a walk,” was her reply. “I am going over to see the Sleeping Giant. I think it is about time he woke up.”

Of course she was joking but imagine a girl like Kate going out for a walk alone after dark. I do believe she is getting sentimental. Poor old Kate.

Thursday, August 31: Diary, I wish I was like some girls who have a heart of stone and no matter how many wounds they inflict on others they are able to smile and forget it, but I am not one of those kind and I never wound a fellow creature without feeling the hurt perhaps keener than they do themselves.

Kate and myself were the last ones of our party to be ready for the start from the Lake Hotel this morning. When I came out on the porch our coach was waiting for us. Mr. Garrett was in the front seat with Mr. Lester, and his “maiden aunts” in the second seat, and the man and wife and boy in the third seat, and Mr. Coles all alone in the back seat. It was easy to see that Mr. Coles had asked Mr. Lester to make this arrangement so that he and myself could be in the back seat alone and Kate would ride up with Mr. Garrett and the driver. But instead of me getting up beside Mr. Coles, what did I do but climb up in the driver’s seat beside Mr. Garrett and leave Kate to sit with Mr. Coles. I did not dare look round at Mr. Coles to see how he took it, but I can imagine.

“Well,” I said to myself, “it will only be for a few hours till we get to the ‘Canyon Hotel,’ and it will show Mr. Coles that I am not running after him, though of course he knows I am not that kind.”

But I never would of done it had I of known the state of Mr. Garrett’s feelings toward me. Before, he had kept himself well in hand and though he had looked at me two or three times when he thought I was not observing him, he had always treated me just like I was only one of the party who it was his duty to be polite to. But when I got up beside him his face turned pale at first and then got as red as fire and I was glad none of the rest of the party could see it.

“Mr. Garrett,” I said, “I am awfully sorry.”

“That’s all right, Miss Emerson,” he replied bravely. “I guess I can live through it.”

Poor fellow, he blushed all the more when he saw that his face had betrayed his secret.

“But it is not all right, Mr. Garrett,” I said, “and I wish I could do something for you, but I fear it is hopeless.”

“Is there someone else?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“Yes,” I replied softly.

I could of killed myself then for the mischievous spirit that had made me take the front seat. I had no heart to appreciate the beauties of our drive along the Yellowstone River, though Mr. Garrett showed perfectly fine self control and pointed out all the points of interest, never once eluding to the pain I had caused him.

The coach stopped for a few minutes at the Upper Falls so we could get out and view it. It is perfectly wonderful and different than anything I have ever seen, and I wish I had of been more in the mood to enjoy it. I had a mind to get in the back seat for the balance of the trip to the hotel, but I heard Mr. Garrett say it was only a few minutes drive; and besides it was too late to undo the harm I had done.

At noon we reached the Canyon Hotel, which is certainly beautiful. Kate and myself immediately went to our room and got ready for lunch, Mr. Garrett said that right after lunch we would all take a walk down to Inspiration Point, where we could get a fine view of the Lower Falls, but Kate said she did not feel like walking and went to our room right after lunch. I followed her in there to see if she was sick or something, but she said she was all right, only tired.

“Kate,” I said, “I am afraid you are not having a good time.”

“Don’t worry about me, girlie,” was her reply.

“Listen, Kate,” I said; “I am ashamed of myself for what I did this morning, making you ride back there alone with Mr. Coles. I just did it to tease him. I know you must of both felt uncomfortable. I never would of done it had I guessed the state of Mr. Garrett’s feelings toward me.”

“What is he sore at you about?” she asked.

“You misunderstand me, Kate,” I said. “I only wish he was sore, as you call it. I am afraid he is growing too fond of me.”

I could see that she was not expecting this, as her face got red, and it is usually no color at all.

“Did he tell you so?” she asked.

“Yes,” was my reply.

“When?” she asked.

“This morning,” was my reply, “when I was sitting in the front seat with him.”

“Well, all I can say is that he has got his nerve,” said Kate.

“We must not be too hard on him, Kate,” I said. “Nobody can help their feelings.”

“What did you tell him?” she asked.

“I was as gentle with him as possible,” was my reply. “But I thought it kindest to tell him the truth. I told him there was somebody else.”

“Who is it?” asked Kate. “You have been holding out on me. Is it Bruce or Don?”

“Oh, Kate, I could never care for either one of those poor boys,” I said. “They are all right, I suppose, but there is no class to them.”

“Well, then, who is it?” she asked.

“Kate,” was my reply, “I guess I can trust you to keep a secret. I am not exactly engaged, but there is an understanding between a certain person and I. Cannot you guess who it is?”

“I certainly cannot,” was her reply.

“Kate,” I said, “it is Mr. Coles.”

Poor girl, this came as such a surprise to her that I thought she was going to faint, though I should think she could of seen that Mr. Coles and myself were more than merely interested in each other. From her looks when I told her the news I believe Kate was actually jealous. She hated to think of anyone, even a man, taking her place in my affections.

“Poor old Kate,” I said, “I know this is hard on you. But you will be my maid of honor and we will do our best to make you look pretty.”

There was a knock at our door and a boy called to us that Mr. Garrett was waiting to take us down and see the Falls.

“Come on, Kate,” I said. “The walk will do you good.”

But she had thrown herself on the bed, and I could see that the poor girl was worn out as well as almost sick over what I had told her. So I left her and went out to join the others on the porch. Mr. Coles was not with them. Mr. Lester said he had gone to his room with a sick headache. This took all the pleasure out of the walk for me, and I would gladly of stayed in the hotel and tried to comfort Kate, but I thought it would look funny. So I went with the party to Inspiration Point, and I was glad afterward that I had, for the Great Falls is perfectly wonderful and different than anything I have ever seen, and I would not of missed it for the world. It is simply heavenly, and I would of loved to of sat there all afternoon “lost in dreams,” watching this grand sight. But how much more I would of enjoyed it had Mr. Coles been along, and I could not help from worrying about him and wondering was he really very ill, and poor Kate, too.

Mr. Lester saw that I was worrying about something, and did his best to cheer me up with his remarks which really were laughable had I been in the mood for laughing. When we were standing on the point, with the bottom of the canyon miles below us, he said:

“It would be simply killing to fall off of here.”

A little later he said:

“If a man tripped and fell down, it would be some trip.”

Then he told a story about a man whom he said jumped out of the nineteenth story of the Masonic Temple, and when he got to the eighth floor he said to himself:

“Well, I am all right so far.”

Of course, it was simply nonsense, because the man could not of talked, and if he had of been able, he would not of had time.

I noticed that Mr. Garrett hardly smiled at all all the time we were out, though he tried his best to be cheerful and do right by those who he was showing the sights to. Poor boy, it made me feel like a criminal to look at him, and yet, was it my fault?

Kate was still lying down when we got back to the hotel, and looked like she had been crying, but I thought it best not to talk on the subjects I knew was occupying her thoughts. She got up and changed her dress, and I helped her fix her hair, which would not be bad if it was not so stringy and perfectly straight.

“Kate,” I said, trying to cheer her up, “you look almost pretty with that dress and your hair fixed that way.”

Mr. Coles was at the supper table when we got there. I could see he was still suffering from his headache, and I wished he had been alone so I could of comforted him. He bowed to both of us when we sat down, but I noticed Kate did not return his bow and had nothing to say all through supper. How silly of her to take it that way, just as though I was never going to look at a man on her account. Mr. Garrett did not appear in the dining-room at all, and I did not see him at all this evening.

Mr. Coles excused himself before we were through. I hoped he would go out on the porch or wait somewhere else for me so that I could ask him how he felt and perhaps help him to forget his suffering, but when I went on the porch no one was there only Mr. Lester and some of the rest of the party who I do not know. Kate had gone straight to our room from the table. Mr. Lester and myself walked up and down together for a few minutes, but he began making such silly remarks that after a while I left him and came in here to my room.

“What has come over this bunch?” was Mr. Lester’s first remark. “Everybody acts sore at each other.”

“I have not noticed anything,” was my reply, as I did not think it necessary to take him into my confidence.

“Your eyes are just ornaments, then,” he said. “Your friend and Coles did not speak at supper and Garrett has had a grouch all day.”

“Well,” I said, “maybe they are not feeling well. You know Mr. Coles has a sick headache.”

“No such a thing,” said Mr. Lester. “He pretended he had a headache so he would not have to go down to the canyon with us. But he had a date with your friend to go walking by themselves.”

“You are always joking, Mr. Lester,” I said.

“There is no joke about it,” was his reply. “He tried to get your friend to go walking with him, and she turned him down cold. And tonight they had a date to go rotten-logging, and that is off, too.”

“Mr. Lester,” I said, you can carry your jokes too far. Mr. Coles would not care to hear you talk like that, and neither would my girlfriend. She is not the kind that goes rotten-logging, as you call it.”

“Then what was she doing that night at Old Faithful’ and last night at the lake?” he said.

“She was tired out and was resting in her room,” I said.

“You think she was,” he said.

“Mr. Lester,” I said coldly, “you are trying to be funny or else you are trying to find out something. Whichever it is, I am tired of listening and think I will go to bed.”

“Don’t hurry,” was his reply. “I will promise to be good, and maybe we can have a little logging party of our own.”

“That will do, Mr. Lester,” I said coldly, and left him.

Mr. Lester is the kind of man who is comical sometimes, but does not know when to stop. Imagine a man wanting to go out walking with Kate, and especially a man like Mr. Coles.

Kate has been in bed for hours, and I am going to bed myself, but I know I shall not sleep, for I will not only be thinking about my poor, dear boy with his sick headache, but also about Mr. Garrett, who has something a thousand times worse, because it lasts so long, a wound in his heart.

Friday, September 1: Diary, my heart is broken, and the sooner die the better.

Thank God, I found out in time before it was too late the kind of a man Mr. Coles is, and Mr. Garrett, too. And, thank God, I have at last seen Kate in her true colors, she who posed as my friend, but who is false to the core.

Our trip has come to a sudden end, just as has my poor little romance and my friendship with Kate, who I thought was my dearest chum, and not the false, deceitful traitor she has turned out to be. We have left Yellowstone Park, and tomorrow morning will be in Ogden. The others are going on to Salt Lake City and home from there tomorrow afternoon. But I am going to stay in Ogden and take the first train for Chi, which I wish to heavens I had never left.

The darkey has made up my bed, but I know I cannot sleep, and I must be doing something or I would go mad, though I do not know if I have the courage to write down the events of this day, which will live in my memory forever.

We left the Canyon Hotel at half-past eight this morning. I was in the back seat with Mr. Lester and Mr. Coles. Mr. Coles had not spoken to Kate and had merely bowed to me at breakfast, and on our trip to Norris Basin he hardly spoke a word. From Norris Basin we were to go to Mammoth Hot Springs, to spend the night there, but when we reached Norris Basin, at noon, we got some news that made us change all our plans. It was that the railroads are all going on a strike next Monday, and if we did not get right out of the park and start home we might have to stay out here all winter, and the park was going to close up on account of the strike, and everybody would have to be out of there by tonight.

So Mr. Garrett said that he was sorry, but we would have to miss the trip to Mammoth Hot Springs and we would start for Yellowstone Station right after lunch and catch this train for Ogden. The ride to Norris had been dusty, but in the excitement of hearing the news about the strike I had forgotten to get cleaned up before lunch, so after lunch, thinking it would be a few minutes before my coach started, I went in to wash my hands and face and fix my hair. When I came out and looked for my coach, it was gone. Two of the others had started, too, and there was only the one left.

“You will have to crowd into this one,” said the driver. “The others must of forgotten you in the excitement.”

Hardly knowing what I was doing, I climbed into a seat beside two strangers, and we started out. I expected every minute to see Mr. Garrett’s coach coming back after me, for then I did not know the truth, that Kate was not really my friend, but false and deceitful, and that she had turned Mr. Coles and Mr. Garrett against me with her lies. What we saw on that terrible ride this afternoon I do not know. I could hear my companions pointing out points of interest, but my heart was too sore to take it in. When at last we reached the Yellowstone Station, the other coaches were there ahead of us and the rest of the party were standing on the station platform. Mr. Garrett came up to meet us.

“Miss Emerson,” he said, “I must ask your pardon for us running off and forgetting you this afternoon. I was worried about getting all these people out of the park.”

“Yes, Mr. Garrett,” I said coldly, “it is all right for you to forget me, and the sooner you do so the better for both of us.”

Then I saw Kate, and went to her.

“Kate,” I said, “I do not believe there can be any explanation for you running off and leaving me in that place alone, but I want to hear what excuse you have got.”

“Girlie,” she said, “I can never forgive myself, but I was so upset I hardly knew what I was doing.”

“But someone must of noticed my absence,” I said.

“If they did, they kept it to themselves,” was her reply.

“Kate,” I said, “I cannot believe that. I know that there was at least one who thought of me.”

“Who?” she inquired.

“You know, Kate,” I replied. “Mr. Coles.”

“Poor Mr. Coles,” said Kate, “I am afraid he had other things to think about.”

“What do you mean, Kate?” I inquired.

“Well, girlie,” was her reply, “I suppose I might as well come across with the truth, though I know it will be hard for you to believe. While we were at Norris this noon, Mr. Coles honored me by asking me to become his wife.”

“Kate,” I said, “you are carrying a joke too far.”

“I know it sounds like a joke,” was her reply; “but it’s just as true as that your name is Violet Emerson.”

I cannot remember what was said in the next few minutes, for suddenly I realized that Kate was telling me the truth. I believe I would of fainted was it not for my horror of making a scene before strangers.

“I told him I was sorry,” was Kate’s next words, “but I could not accept because I was engaged to another man. It was a lie when I told it to him, but it was not a lie very long, for Mr. Garrett and I became engaged about a half-hour after we left Norris. You nearly spoiled everything for me yesterday by telling me Mr. Garrett had told you he cared for you. I thought he was in the wholesale business. But I knew there must be some explanation, and I gave him a chance to make it. When you thought he was talking about you yesterday, it was I he was talking about. So that is about all there is to it. We are going to get married in November and you are to be my maid of honor.”

“Kate,” I said coldly, “I thought you were my friend. Instead of that, you have spread lies about me and have stolen the one man you knew I cared for.”

“I thought you cared for Mr. Coles,” she said.

“I do,” was my reply.

“Well,” she said, “as far as I am concerned, you can have him.”

“Kate,” I said coldly, “I see now that your friendship for me was merely a pose. But let me tell you that you will pose no longer. From now on you will do me a favor by not speaking to me. Henceforth you and myself are as strangers.”

“I am sorry you feel that way, girlie,” was her reply, “but you must suit yourself.”

I left her then, and found my seat in the train. While I was sitting there Mr. Coles came up.

“Well, Miss Emerson,” he said, “I guess I will have to admit defeat. But she is a fine girl, and Garrett is a lucky dog. I suppose the best thing I can do is congratulate him and try and forget it.”

“You may do whatever you choose, I am sure,” I replied coldly.

Mr. Garrett stopped at the table where I was eating in the dining-car to ask me if I wanted to go straight home from Ogden.

“Where is the rest of the party going?” I inquired.

“Most of them are going to Salt Lake, and start east from there tomorrow afternoon,” was his reply. “Kate is going to Salt Lake, and so are Lester and Coles.”

“All right, then,” I said coldly. “I will go straight home from Ogden. I guess I know when I am not wanted.”

It seems like Mr. Garrett and Kate were proud of what they had done, for they spread the news all over the train. One of the two old maids heard it at supper and came rushing up to me.

“I hear we have a romance,” she said.

“We,” I said. “I guess there is no danger of you ever having one.”

“You either,” she said.

“That is none of your business,” was my reply, “and the best thing you can do is keep your mouth shut.”

After that she let me alone, the old fossil.

Mr. Lester just came through the car and saw me sitting here writing.

“Are you writing the Yellowstone Romance?” he asked.

“It is none of your business what I am writing, Mr. Lester,” I replied.

“What do you think of them?” he continued. “Who would of thought she would of got both of them on her staff and you be overlooked? Some people have funny taste. I would of bet my pile on you. In fact, I would fall in love with you myself, only I have a wife and family in Kenosha.”

“You are welcome to them and they are welcome to you,” was my reply, and he walked away.

I have told the darkey to be sure and see that I get off at Ogden in the morning. I believe I would die if I had to spend another day in the company of those who have betrayed me. I believe I am going to die, anyway. I hope so, for what is there to live for, diary?

Sunday, September 3: The conductor told me this morning that there is not going to be any railroad strike, after all, as President Wilson has fixed everything up, so I suppose that my dear “friends” will keep on with their trip and take in Colorado Springs and Denver, etc. They can do it as far as I am concerned. I will not stop them. I will be in Chi tomorrow morning, and how good it will seem after all I have gone through.

I still have a week left of my vacation and I think I will stay at home and read. I will not let anyone know I am home, unless it is one or two of my girl chums. I do not want to ever see a man of the opposite sex again as long as I live.

It has been a lonesome trip from Ogden, and I am glad it is nearly over, though I am not shedding any tears over making the trip alone. I had much rather be alone than in the company of those who I started out with. I suppose by this time Mr. Coles has found some other girl to try and flirt with, and I hope for his sake he has found a girl who will fall for him because she has been shut up all her life and never saw another man. That is about the only kind of a girl who he could make a hit with. As for Mr. Garrett and Kate, I wish them happiness, and they ought to be happy together, because they are two of a kind, and, thank heavens, I am not one of their kind.

When I was getting off the train at Ogden yesterday morning, poor Kate saw me and climbed out of her bed in her kimona to say “goodbye” to me. I wish Mr. Garrett and Mr. Coles could of seen her the way she looked, and Mr. Coles would of thanked heavens for his escape.

“You are not getting off here, are you, girlie?” she said.

“I certainly am,” was my reply.

“But the rest of us are going through to Salt Lake,” she said.

“I should worry where the rest of you are going,” I said.

“Girlie,” she said, “please do not bear any grudge against me and break up our friendship.”

“I guess you know, Kate, who has broken up our friendship,” I replied coldly.

“If you will just tell me what I have done, I will try and make it right,” she said.

“Kate,” I said, “there is no use of you pretending. You know what you have done, and you did it with your eyes open.”

“You mean me getting engaged to Mr. Garrett?” she said. “Remember, girlie, there is always some man somewhere foolish enough to fall for a girl as ugly as I. You pretty girls cannot expect to get all the men.”

“If you think I wanted Mr. Garrett or Mr. Coles, either one, you are much mistaken,” I replied coldly.

“Then what is the trouble?” she asked.

“I guess you know, Kate,” I said. “There is no use discussing it. You had better get back in your berth before Mr. Garrett sees you, because if you care for him you certainly do not want him to faint away.”

I left her then and got off the train, and if I never see her again I guess I will live through it.

I have been doing a lot of thinking yesterday and today on the train, and I have come to the conclusion that a girl is foolish to give up her freedom for any man, no matter how attractive she may think him at first. There is nobler work in the world for a girl besides being a drudge for her husband. As soon as I get home I believe I will make inquiries about how much it would cost to train to be a Red Cross nurse. Surely that is a nobler work than that of a housewife. Anyway, I certainly am through with the opposite sex for all time, and will be just as well satisfied if no man ever looks at me again.

Monday, September 4: I do not know why I am keeping up this diary, now that my trip is over. Just to pass the time, I guess. I thought this morning I would tear it all up, but then I happened to think that it contained my personal impressions of Yellowstone Park, which I will copy out some day and keep, and tear up the rest of it.

It is after supper and mother has gone out to the picture show. I would of gone with her only Don Kellogg is coming to see me. How he will laugh when I tell him about Kate and her “great catch.” I bet he will not believe me when I tell him she is actually engaged. He will say: “Is the poor guy blind or crazy or what?”

I would not of let Don know I was in town only I happened to remember I had lent him the book I wanted to read this week, so I phoned him as soon as I got home this morning and asked him would he send it to me.

“No,” was his reply; “but I will bring it to you.”

“You are the same old Don,” I said laughingly, “persistent as ever.”

I did not have the heart to tell him not to come. He is a dear, and it will be grand to see him after spending nearly a week in the kind of company I have been in.

Next time I take a trip I will pick my own company, and maybe, diary, it will be a honeymoon trip. Who knows?