-- FOREVER. Monday November 4th 1917 Same as yesterday - except colder (-10½) There is no kind of philosophy that will prove an antidote for the first few minutes following a night in any stuffy atmosphere. I decided that this morning when I lowered my soggy limbs from the branch at Etah, if the old explorers lived then anything like that their security was but an excuse for criminal neglect or suicidal ignorance. I dimly remember that breakfast included another talk-fest or orthopraxial conflict (whatever that may mean precisely) but I was too absorbed in my own anticipations to be impressed by any valuable information that might have been produced. For today we return to our own little home. When we arrived and built a nice talkative fire, which necessitated stirring up a number of prune and other familiar odors, a sense of contentment suddenly seized me. I think the suddenness was real too for my attitude had been 'six long days before next Sunday'. This pleasant sensation is not a new thing but I have been attaching it to the novelty of our isolation. Now then came a suspicion in to my mind that perhaps I am on the trail of that elusive fairy, the Solution of my life. There is bodily comfort and its corollary health, for such is our existence. My days here contain work, exercise and recreation in orderly arrangements. I can think with peace of mind and body; a divine combination that is too. I have my books and I have not the world. Perhaps — ........