Letter from Sinclair Lewis to Marcella Powers, August 11, 1942

              . 11  Jesse R.  Gapen  PROP.  Mrs. Jesse R. Gapen  HOSTESS  i M M  y^*5L/fV XJC*IVfr  Grand HUkus.KUhiv.  Tuesday,  August 11  60,  ^(i^^l/®(olg(i  ^^X^  Tomorrow evening you will be starting on Mary6s Ankle,  poor  thing,  no?.....There  is a very trustworthy guide here,   so  I have  sent  the  two boys  off for a two-day canoe-fishing  trip with him,  and they will camp out,   sleep out,  tonight,  surrounded by bears,  hoot owls,  and dreams of great pickerel  I like working here;   my tiny  cabin among  the pines,  with  even fresher air than that of Minnetonka  coming off the  northern lake.....I have found one thing  I do better  than  Joseph.    He can drive  a car better   than I, he  can cook better, he  can sleep much better, but I can  row a boat better.  He goes  in circles.    What?    I know,  dear,  but my circles  are much wider and-more  graceful... ..Do you wish to  go  camping,   sleeping in blankets upon ungrateful ground,  sur.  by bears, h.   owls,  and breams of pickerel?      All right  then,  I'll do it  and like   it.    But then you are prettier than  Michael   and  David   (and the guide)  and none  of   ttem could do  a Silly Mllly Monogram signature which would also be a  Reynolds portrait.     (I don't think I've spoken  of that,  but  I was over1$HELMed» )  There  is  a charming young woman here  at this  lodge.     She  is full of tan and merriment.....But  then,   she is married  to an also charming young doctor,  and goes MM canoeing with  him,  instead of listening to my theories about the War,  which are sound and extensive, because I have  just  got  them  by listening to Micky verbally  showing off to David.  Joseph has just this  minute  come up to my cabin door  to display, with  pride,  a Northern Pike he has  just  cau^nt in the lake Did you ever catch a fish?...,  Somehow I just  never could feel  I knew a fish well  enough socially to want to  catch itece..I prefer  Silly Hilly!s  as  catches,   I do.  Wednesday  afternoon  I have finished the  first draft  of my story  ""All Wives  Are Angels,"" which should mean rent and taxes and one  (l)  tie in New York for me,  and maybe a small light-weight  dress for you.     The boys are due back from their camping  expedition this afternoon;   tomorrow on to Hibblng,   the  iron-mine  town,  Miere they can have the spiritual exal-