CHAPTER XIII. 

FLAXEN'S GREAT NEED. 

Flaxen wrote occasionally, during the next year, letters all too short and too far between for the lonely man toiling away on his brown farm. These letters were very much alike, telling mainly of how happy she was, and of what she was going to do by and by, on Christmas or Thanksgiving. Once she sent a photograph of herself and husband, and Anson, after studying it for a long time, took a pair of shears and cut the husband off, and threw him into the fire. 

"That fellow gives me the ague," he muttered. 

Bert did not write, and there was hardly a night that Ans lay down on his bed that he did not wonder where his chum was, especially as the winter came on unusually severe, reminding him of that first winter in the Territory. Day after day he spent alone in his house, going out only to feed the cattle or to get the mail. The sad wind was always in his ears. But with the passage of time the pain in his heart lost its intensity. 

One day he got a letter from Flaxen that startled and puzzled him. It was like a cry for help, somehow. 

"Dear old pap, I wish you was here," and then in another place came the piteous cry, "Oh, I wish I had some folks!" 

All night long that cry rang in the man's head with a wailing, falling cadence like the note of a lost little prairie-chicken. 
Is Flaxen a man or woman?
Was she married?
What was her husband's name?
What did Anson do to the photo he received?
With what?
Why?
did he keep that portion of the photo?
how did he destroy it?
What was Anson's work?
did Anson have lots of friends?
Did the hurt Anson felt get worse?
What did Flaxen write about in her letters?
Were they long letters?
Did Anson feel he received them often enough?
What did Flaxen write that surprised Anson?
Did he get letters from Bert?
when did Anson think about him?
was there a particular season that made him think of Bert more?
which season?
was it a mild winter?
why did Anson go out during the day?
a woman
Flaxen wrote occasionally, during the next year, letters all too short and too far between for the lonely man toiling away on his brown farm. These letters were very much alike, telling mainly of how happy she was
Yes
Once she sent a photograph of herself and husband
unknown
unknown
He cut it
Once she sent a photograph of herself and husband, and Anson, after studying it for a long time, took a pair of shears and cut the husband off
shears
took a pair of shears and cut the husband off
to get rid of the husband from the photo
and cut the husband off, and threw him into the fire.
no
cut the husband off, and threw him into the fire. 
he threw it into the fire
cut the husband off, and threw him into the fire.
he worked on a farm
the lonely man toiling away on his brown farm. These letters were very much alike, telling mainly of how happy she was, and of what she was going to do by and by, on Christmas or Thanksgiving. Once she sent a photograph of herself and husband, and Anson,
no
the lonely man toiling away on his brown farm
No
But with the passage of time the pain in his heart lost its intensity.
How happy she was and what she was going to do
These letters were very much alike, telling mainly of how happy she was, and of what she was going to do by and by, on Christmas or Thanksgiving
no
letters all too short 
no
letters all too short and too far between for the lonely man toiling away on his brown farm.
Flaxen that startled and puzzled him. It was like a cry for help, somehow. "Dear old pap, I wish you was here," and then in another place came the piteous cry, "Oh, I wish I had some folks!"
Flaxen that startled and puzzled him. It was like a cry for help, somehow. 

"Dear old pap, I wish you was here," and then in another place came the piteous cry, "Oh, I wish I had some folks!" 
no
Bert did not write
at night when he lay down on his bed
here was hardly a night that Ans lay down on his bed that he did not wonder where his chum was
yes
there was hardly a night that Ans lay down on his bed that he did not wonder where his chum was, especially as the winter came on
winter
there was hardly a night that Ans lay down on his bed that he did not wonder where his chum was, especially as the winter came on unusually severe
no
winter came on unusually severe
to feed the cattle or to get the mail
Day after day he spent alone in his house, going out only to feed the cattle or to get the mail