Westmoreland
Wednesday afternoon

Dear both of you,

Your letter came just a little while ago, and I read it while I was down in the Book Store. I’d read a sentence, sell a college Algebra, read another sentence, open a bottle of pop, read another, sell some hot tamales, and finish the paragraph while I was selling candy with one hand and making change with the other. I enjoyed it immensely though – the letter.

Around May 25, 1932 (from Claudelle)

Ina, do you really cook all the good things you say you do? I can’t believe you do – unless, as you say, Walter does over half of it. Your letters don’t sound at all as if you were living on “love and pickles” – at least you haven’t mentioned the pickles yet. I’m so hungry after finishing your letter that I “just can’t wait” for the hash we’re sure to have for dinner.

Yes, exams are over and I passed on everything. I surely thought for a day or two that I wasn’t coming through on Trig. By dint of “cramming” and Arthur’s coaching I got through all right, though.

Did you know I was home last Sunday? The Choral Club left early Sunday morning, gave a program in Hondo at the church hour, had lunch there, and went on home. We got there about four and left at eleven that night. The program lasted from seven to eight, and then the League gave us supper. I wasn’t at home hardly any time, and while I was I had two other girls with me. It was wonderful, though – I would have died of homesickness pretty soon if I hadn’t gotten away from here. Mama and Papa and Thelma and Bob and the children seemed to be fine, except that Papa had a cold. Thelma and the children have been a little sick, but are all right now. I didn’t get to see them until during the program, when I looked down and saw Reitha grinning at me for all she was worth. She pulled Thelma Lee over and then they both grinned. I had a terrible time keeping from laughing. They’re precious.

Bob has shaved his mustache! He made me kiss him under it when I was home Christmas, and you can’t imagine how relieved I was to see it gone this time. Walter, please don’t ever try raising one, will you?

Speaking of mustaches, you should have seen me one night last week. We had a manless wedding over at Smith House and I was best man. I vaselined my hair, wore a neighbor boy’s suit, and got my mustache out of the chimney. Oh, I looked quite heart-smashing! Quite the best-looking boy in the family – excepting the in-laws, of course.

Dinner time. Bye-bye!

Claudelle.