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Keams Canon, Arizona
Dec 30, 1897

My own true loving little wife,

The fat little Moqui came late and I had started on another pretty girl, so she will have to wait. I am working on my 19th picture now and have at last got a snake dancer in full costume sitting for me. I am painting him standing, showing full figure. There are four or five different costumes in the Snake Dance and this fellow takes part where he uses two costumes. The costume he had on today, he was nude except breach clout, and had a big tuft of yellow & red fathers (2) on his head like a rooster. His cheeks were painted black. He wore long, greenish blue, turquoise ear rings and a lot of beads around his neck. His arms, legs, and body was painted like a snake, and he wore bracelets like snakes on his arms, and had a queer snakey looking thing around his body with long snakey looking fringe hanging to it. He held in one hand a beautiful thing made of different colored stones and a feather to charm a snake with. And in the other hand a sort of bag with sacred meal (corn pollen) in it to dip(?) the snakes after they have been washed. On his legs and feet he had queer things, but the other costume must look hideous. He is going to fix up in that when I am through with (3) this one. In that one the upper part of his face is painted black, and his mouth and chin painted white. In that costume he has a live snake in his mouth, but won’t paint him with one, just the costume. And when I am painting that one, that is the face, he says he must not eat or drink while I am painting the face. While he is sitting for me the door has to be blocked and the window fixed so no one can see in, and no one is allowed in the room but his wife & children, and she brings his dinner which is a water melon.

You ought to eat the canned fruit they have here, my dear. It is canned in California and the finest I ever ate (4) in my life. In the summer the Moqui here have peaches and they have them canned here and are the finest I ever ate. The Moqui don’t put them up, but white people. I may send your mother a can by mail.

I hope you have sent the pocket book & calendar. The only way I know when Sunday comes is by the calendar & keeping track. Every day is the same here. I am going to stay here anyway until Feb. 14th which will be two months, as this is the finest place I have been to yet and I am getting some fine subjects here. These girls just make beautiful pictures and so saleable. The people haven’t ever seen anything like it before, that is the portraits. Doctor Fewkes, who came here from (5) Washington - from the Smithsonian - to see the ceremony here, was awfully enthusiastic over my pictures and said to let him know when I had the exhibit as he would come & see it.

There is one very disagreeable part in painting the Moqui. It doesn’t make any difference who I am painting, man, woman, or child. Someone has to come along with a baby and they put the baby on their back, then throw a shawl over the baby. The mother or woman carries the baby in that way and the baby pees on the mother’s back & the mother comes in my room where there is a warm fire and pretty soon there is a powerful smell of pee. And then sometimes there will be five or six mothers, each one (6) with a baby and each one has peed and the smell is five or six times as strong of it. If it was anyone but an Indian I would put them out. Most every night some Indian man comes in to see me & smoke & talk. I have lots of fun with them.

Tell your mother to get the Art Amateur for January, my dear, as it will have an illustrated article in on my Indians. Well I must close. Goodnight darling. Your own true loving husband.

Lots of love, hugs & kisses,

Elbridge

P.S. I sent you a lot of stamps from Ganado did you receive them?