Wednesday Night
Sept. 30, 1925.

My dear Sweetheart:

This has been one of those unusual days when nothing noteworthy has happened. Just the same I wouldn’t feel that any day was complete without a conversation with you, even though it may be in the form of a short note.

September 30, 1925 (Ina)

No doubt you will judge from the enclosed paper that I am trying to give you a correspondence course in kindergarten work, but really you have made a wrong guess. Almost every day since you left Thelma Lee has “written” you some sort of a letter and has given a number of them to me to mail. So far, I have run a bluff and not done it. However, I believe my conscience would hurt me if I didn’t send you this “masterpiece.” Part of it is copied from her Primer, part from a tube of toothpaste, and the remainder as per her mother’s instructions. So the news that you can’t find in my letter, will be revealed in hers. I haven’t yet delivered your message of advice in regard to the cats’ names to the children, but I expect to soon as I know it will solve their problem. If they haven’t any unnamed ones, I am sure they will be ready to change the ones they have as they often do. Also, they may want to bestow one or two of the names on their new pet goat.

I love you, Sweetheart, and I would give ‘most anything if you could be here right now. We are having a nice slow rain and it is so nice and cozy inside – just an ideal night for a long chat with the only one in the world you really and truly love as a sweetheart.

Goodnight and sweetest dreams, from

Your own
Ina.