April 8, 1931

Another year has passed and how queer has my outlook become compared with last year's dreams and philosophy. As I glance over the pages of last winter, now only a short year ago I realize that nothing is permanent and last of all dreams and aspirations. Then it was writing, I had found my goal at last, for me there was nothing to do but to interpret my appreciation of nature for the world, let others see my joy in the out of doors. Scathing were my remarks on scientific research and today I am waiting for news of a fellowship at the Univ. of Mich and for the assistantship at Illinois. My viewpoint has changed and instead of going at fiction I have decided to content myself with an occasional story or article for the outdoor magazines. After all I believe this is the saner thing for if I was to give up everything for writing I am afraid there would be nothing but failure ahead. This way if I go ahead and get some more scientific work out of the way I can still write occasionally and have that satisfaction and make a good living too.

Kings rumor of a possible Moose Fellowship is anything but quieting. For three years at about $250.00 per month would not be so bad with the chance to work off my doctors degree. King said that Leopold would push it and that they thought I was the logical man for the job. If that materialized I would be made zoologically at least and the outfitting business and the writing would take care of itself.

Since I wrote last I have had pneumonia and to all intents and purposes almost died. I shall never forget certain moments during those hectic days of late December and early January, some pure misery and some joy. I wouldn't have missed it for anything. Those nights when all was peace and quiet when all my worries were gone and I seemed to be drifting off into space, the gurgling of the oxygen tanks and their likeness to rapids in the dusk, how can I ever forget it. It was the closest I ever came to sheer beauty and peace. And more, death will never again be a fearsome thing or the hereafter - it is all so natural and so welcome when the time has come. It was all worth while and was it not for the long tiring aftermath, I would go through it regularly when life begins to drag at the traces.