Nov. 14, 1925.
My dearest Walter:
Of course I may not mail this letter – at least I will not until I hear from you – but I don’t feel right going to sleep without saying a few words to you. That always seems necessary to make it a well rounded day.
November 14, 1925
I have been spending the evening by reading in the “National Geographic” of an Arctic expedition while a stiff norther is blowing outside. I imagine it will be really cold by morning. We will feel it too after the fine springlike days we have been enjoying.
This afternoon Thelma Lee called us up to tell us that Mr. and Mrs. Parman had returned. They have had quite a stay.
I am so accustomed to writing you every day that when I wrote Claudelle day before yesterday I addressed it to Box 61 instead of her box number which is 55. Mama called my attention to my error when I started down town, but I forgot to correct it. It seems unnatural not to send the mail to 61 every day.
I love you, Sweetheart, a mighty heap.
Always, your own
Now, I think I can go to sleep. Goodnight and sweet dreams.
Nov. 15, 1925.
My dearest Walter:
Here goes the second installment. Perhaps I will get a letter tomorrow so that I can mail this one.
This morning Mrs. Bunting, a friend of ours who has several school teachers boarding at her house, ‘phoned and invited me to take dinner with her. She has been insisting for quite a while on my calling on a young lady who boards there but on whom I had not called so I accepted her invitation to dinner. Mr. Priddy, the commercial teacher in high school here, and whom I went with some last session, boards there too. He introduced me to Mr. Butler, a friend and his former Baylor University roommate, who was visiting him, so this afternoon Mr. Priddy, Miss Wilhaus, Mr. Butler and I went to Eagle Pass crossing kodaking. You remember that is the spot on the Nueces river where you and I went that Sunday afternoon when you missed the train. It was beautiful this afternoon. There was more water than usual and the clear sky and warm sunshine made it ideal for an outing. I thought of you and wished for you when those familiar scenes all reminded me of the pleasant afternoon of “getting acquainted” you and I spent there. Then I thought of the Sunday afternoon, almost a year later, after you and I were happily engaged, when we spent several hours at the same place. And, Sweetheart, Mr. Butler, in a number of ways, reminds me of you. He doesn’t dance, and his ideas on things of that kind are very similar to your own. If any of the two dozen pictures we took are good, I will send you some. We returned about six o’clock and I had a date with Mr. Butler to go to church this evening.
When I go down town tomorrow after your letter, I am going to have my fountain pen repaired so that I can write you a neater letter.
I love you, Sweetheart, and think of you often.