SEATTLE, Friday—I realize that you may be a little bored by this recital of my trip across the Continent, but some of you may do it by air in early November and so it may be useful to you to realize how changeable Dame Nature's moods can be when you cover so many miles in such a short space of time.

By the time we reached Billings, Mont., it was growing dark and I was getting sleepy. I might have almost stayed in the plane and slept, but as we slowed up I heard a fife and drum corps and looked out to see girls and boys attired in uniform and quite a crowd of people. I got out of the plane and found out that it was even colder than it had been in Fargo, North Dakota, so I entered the airport station followed by the crowd and the fife and drum corps. They gave me a concert inside and the crowd seemed to heat up the little room very quickly.

I felt as though the roof would soon have to blow off, for these youngsters played with such enthusiasm on their drums and the heat and the people seemed to make the whole place vibrate. However, a baby sat on a counter and listened with perfect stolidity, not even a change of expression passed over his placid little face. He was still sitting there when, after thanking them all, I made my way out into the brisk outer air to recover from heat and noise. Even the babies out here are stronger than we effete people from the East. Later, in Butte, Mont., some kind people were down to welcome me and I stepped out again, but only for a few minutes.

We had fog, rain and much wind through this part of our journey, so that I said to myself in Anne Lindbergh's words, "Listen—the wind" on several occasions. It cleared, however, and I looked down to see the ground below us covered with snow. The pilot told me it had fallen since his last trip. There must have been about an inch and a half, for all around us it shone white in the moonlight with occasional spots of blackness, which I suppose were either rocks or trees.

From Spokane, Wash., we flew through squalls of rain, but the wind against us was not so strong and we arrived only an hour late. My daughter and son-in-law greeted me chreefully although it was 2:05 in the morning, and I suddenly forgot that I had begun to think this a rather lengthy journey.

We sat in the kitchen after we reached their house and drank milk and ate chocolate cookies. Katie, Anna's colored housekeeper, who spent five years with me before she adopted Anna completely and went to live with her, always cooks all the things she knows I like best. We have fudge, which, of course, I shouldn't eat, on the table to tempt me. There are popovers and special little biscuits which melt in your mouth, which I simply can't resist, for every meal. I try to discard a few pounds now and then, but staying with Anna is not a good time to do it. I had to take a hurried look at the new house, even in the dark, and I got the impression of a wonderful view out of their living room window, where there seemed to be a sea of lights below us.

At 8:15 yesterday morning, I was up to see the grandchildren before they went to school, and they showed me the rest of the house. What a really lovely view one can have from so many places in Seattle! That is the advantage of living in a city of many hills. We spent a day with much talk and made up for our rather short night by going to bed at 9 pm.