Sunday Night.
Sept. 6, 1925.

Dear Sweetheart:

We have just returned from church services. I drove home alone since Claudelle had a date and Mama and Papa came home in the Ford. As Claudelle and I have to go to League so early in the evening, Mama and Papa can’t go with us but they follow up about an hour later. When C. leaves for school I am going to try again to persuade Mama and Papa to go to places more than they do now. I want them to get in the habit so that they will not be so lonely when we both are away. They are accustomed now to having young people around and that keeps them feeling younger, but I can’t bear the idea of their settling down out here after we leave and growing old. They are both inclined to be very much of “stay at homes.”

September 6, 1925 (Ina)

The moonlight on the water sounds very tempting to me. I wish I could be with you this evening and we could go in the surf together. We are going to be so happy, Sweetheart, when we can be together always. I get so much pleasure out of planning it.

In your Wednesday’s letter which I received today you sounded so tired and sleepy after your trip into Jacksonville. I know how you feel after a rushed day and I know how you crave a good night of refreshing sleep. Sometimes those days that seem the busiest and most tiresome are those on which we feel that we have accomplished least. However, later we often find that day’s work amounted to a great deal more than we thought it did at the time. I have been through a number of days like that in my business experience and also in my work at home. Even at that though, every day is immensely worth living.

I love you Sweetheart, most preciously and would give worlds to be with you right now and tell you in the most “impressive” way.

Always your
Ina.