Monday Nite
Nov. 9, 1925.
My dearest Walter:
Yours of Friday night came after a second trip today after it. It didn’t come this morning, so, since I felt like I just had to have a letter today, I went down town again this afternoon. If it hadn’t come I would have – well, waited until tomorrow or the next day or the next to get one. I didn’t write you last night because I didn’t know what to write. You see, I had received only three letters the past week when I had been accustomed to receiving, usually, seven. So I didn’t know what was wrong.
The real estate letter you enclosed was interesting also. It will be mighty fine to make a nice profit by the time we are ready to have a home of our own. I am glad that Jacksonville is coming to the front of the Fla. boom so that the acreage west will be increasing.
Yesterday afternoon Mrs. Monagin and June Latham (the young school teacher from Mississippi whom you met at the Uvalde Hotel) came out and spent quite a while with us. Mervin is quite a football hero this session. I think he enjoys every minute of it too.
It was announced last night at church that part of our pipe organ had already arrived and the remaining part and a man to install it were expected soon. I don’t know why the shipment has been delayed so long.
Wednesday is Armistice Day. Are you going to take a holiday? I don’t know how we are going to spend the day – as per usual though, I suppose. Yesterday evening we had a debate at League “Resolved, that Christians should not participate in War.” There was lots of room for argument, of course, on this question, and the four debaters did it justice too, I think. I most earnestly hope that some plan can be presented and carried out that will honorably and effectively prevent all wars in the future. It makes me shudder to think of the losses, terrors, ruin and desolation caused by the World War. It seems impossible that the people of the world would bring about another one as horrible. Here’s hoping it’s all over!
I love you, Sweetheart, ever so very very much!
Always, your
Ina.