Adventures and Letters
preparedness dictates, the things which cannot be accomplished after trouble is upon us.
He had in mind at the time of his death a series of articles to be written especially to build
up interest in universal military training through conveying to our people an
understanding of what organization as it exists to-day means, and how vitally important it
is for our people to do in time of peace those things which modern war does not permit
done once it is under way.
"Davis was a loyal friend, a thoroughgoing American devoted to the best interests of his
country, courageous, sympathetic, and true. His loss has been a very real one to all of us
who knew and appreciated him, and in his death the cause of preparedness has lost an
able worker and the country a devoted and loyal citizen."
Although suffering from his strenuous experiences in France, and more particularly from
those in Greece, Richard continued to accomplish his usual enormous amount of work,
and during these weeks wrote his last short story, "The Deserter."
The following letter was written to me while I was in the Bahamas and was in reference
to a novel which I had dedicated to Hope:
DEAR OLD MAN:
No word yet of the book, except the advts. I enclose. I will send you the notices as soon
as they begin to appear. I am so happy over the dedication, and, very proud. So, Hope
will be when she knows. As I have not read the novel it all will come as a splendid and
pleasant surprise. I am looking forward to sitting down to it with all the pleasure in the
You chose the right moment to elope. Never was weather so cold, cruel and bitter. Hope
is the only one who goes out of doors.
I start the fires in the Big House tomorrow and the plumbers and paper hangers, painters
enter the day after.
The attack on Verdun makes me sick. I was there six weeks ago in one of the forts but of
course could not then nor can I now write of it. I don't believe the drive ever can get
through. For two reasons, and the unmilitary one is that I believe in a just God. Give my
love to Dai, and for you always
P. S. I am happy you are both so happy, but those post cards with the palms were cruelty
On the 21st of March, 1916, Richard and his wife and daughter moved from the Scribner
cottage to Crossroads, and a few days later he was attacked by the illness that ended in