[envelope] Prof. C. E. Bessey [/envelope]
[text on top of page, written upside down] I am still open to suggestions and plans. I think it would be a [?] thing if I could see you any way. Your Brother [H. W. ?] Bessey [/text on top of page, written upside down]
Lodi, Apr. 12, 1880.
Have finished my school, and am now arranging, as well as I can, our farm affairs. Shall [?] back to [Charlie?] soon. I have given considerable thought to the contents of yout letter. Am willing an even anxious to listen to your [?], but several things are yet to be considered. About studying medicine the [impediments?] to that course are [underlined] much[/underlined] greater than you suppose. Firstly, I have no money. My
winter´s wages have already disappeared - $40. [?] for home expenses - $10. to [Millis?] are the next to pay a debt which I had previously [?]. But how can I go west under theses circumstances? This way I purpose taking a portion of [underlined] my [/underlined] money which was in the farm but which I can now get at. But you say "Why not go to school on this money?" The difficulty is this: Suppose Millis and I were to have [underlined] "our [/underlined] money" with Mother for her to draw interest on. Now if th interest which she draws from all sources is not sufficient to keep her [?] Millis and I have to supply the
deficiency by our own efforts by money obtained by whatever means we can. But suppose we draw it out from Mother's sources of support, we will still be under obligations to see that her resources are sufficient for her to live. So that whether we leave it for her or take it for our own use, we are bound to make up any deficiency in mother's account for living expenses. Now if I take my money I shall have to pay mother any percent which will enable her to live. This I can do I trust if I use it to advantage. But here is the point, if I go to school on it, I can't pay
[El Pais [?]?], Nov. 22nd, 1880.
My Dear Brother,
I had intended in this letter to give you a somewhat detailed description of the country and inhabitants but I find myself so [?] for time and with such limited and meager facilities for writing that I can scarcely more [?] that I am here, and well, and that I am [?] myself in this really foreign country. Perhaps you wonder how I got here, away off from rail roads, and away from any where but I´ll tell you although it is to be considered as confidential. I [underlined]] walked [/underlined], not of course from Santa Fe but from Colorado or [underlined] Colorow [/underlined] as the Mexicans call it