Steam Laundry

Tom Returns to Dawson

100 Tom Returns to Dawson —Dawson City, Yukon Territory, June 14, 1904 Dear Mother, You will have to excuse this writing as the table is rough and the pencil runs away with itself. I expected a letter on the last steamer, but she is in and I have not got it yet. Judging from your last telegram, there will be no letter. If you want to know how it is in Dawson these days, you could ask. But you don’t. I’d tell you it is dying, the river steals the people as town wastes away. Every letter I get from you is a shopping list. No news, no greetings, no thanks. Just sugar, hatpins, whiskey, cigars, fabric, and the boiler. Too many pounds for me to freight. Do you think I have got an airship or rolled a bank? It takes a little money to get to the mouth of the river from here. Or don’t you remember. At the new camp, it’s dreams and aspirations, but here I can barely make enough to make it home myself. The bank has taken your cabins for want of mortgage and renters. You knew when you sent me I was going to have to make enough to take me back, but there’s no breaking down boats because nothing comes in. Everyone’s packing to leave. 101 You must see them all getting off the steamers on the Chena, breaking half of Dawson on the docks. You couldn’t give a real gold brick away at any price here now. If you want to know how I am, it takes two to three dollars to keep me and the dogs here. Lady had a dozen and I drowned eight. Sally had five and I killed two. None of them had their eyes open yet. I took them from Lady and bagged them, squirming, in a flour sack with some rocks. Before I threw it into the river, I felt the tremble of breath under burlap and thought of the strong ones and what they’d pull next winter when I hunt meat for the new camp. I won’t be back here and that suits me fine. Don’t wait or worry about me. I will come as soon as I get enough to start. Your son, Tom ...