[Some paragraph marks added for ease of reading.]Nov. 10, 1907.
My dear Miss Baker,
I know I've been so rude in not writing before, to tell you how much I appreciated your kindness, in finding out all that about my lessons; but if you knew how busy I am out here, you'd forgive me right away.
It is delightful here. I have learned so much not only from my books, but from the things about me. You can imagine what a complete change it is. Monday is our holiday, so Saturday afternoons we girls usually go down town to do our shipping, and to see the sights, at least I go for the last. On Saturday afternoons, the Indians all come to town to do their trading; and at first I was almost afraid to come into such close contact with the big creatures; for some of them are almost giants. However, they are a good class of people, and are liked much better than the negroes. When I first came here, the negroes were holding a fair down town, and they hired the Indians to dance every night. I could not go, although I wanted to most awfully, but I could hear the funny chanting noise they sometimes make when dancing, and the tom-toms. Next spring Proff. Drake, the vocal teacher, is going to take the piano teacher and I to an Indian encampment, where we can see the Indian[s] dance as a part of their religous [sic] services.
One night I was awakened by the most blood-curdling cries I ever heard, and if I had not heard before that this was a custom of the boys, I should have ben fearfully frightened. The campus was all lighted up from a big bonfire, and the boys, draped in blankets, were dancing the Indian fire-dance. It was a weird sight to see.
Last Sunday night four of us went to the negroes' Baptist church, and needless to say, it was amusing. The man who preached called himself a great preacher, the greatest colored preacher in Missouri. He was very forcible I must say, and rather witty. The boys and girls of the school hate the negroes and will not let them come here to school[.] You can't blame them much, for the negroes of the South are one thing, and those of the North another.
How do you like school this year? I hope Roger and Dee do well, I am sure. They seem much pleased with everything, and in their letters often say things that convince me that they are doing better work than they did last year.
Is your sister at Mt. Holyoke? I wish I could have afforded to go to a school at home, but still I know that I am learning a lot even here. You'd be surprised at the fine faculty this obscure little college has.
Well, Miss Baker, I'd love to hear from you some time, and about your work.
Sincerely,
Helen Hanson