Friday, July 4th.
My dear Miss Ina,
I was surprised and words can’t tell you how glad I was to get your letter this morning. I was wishing that I could hear from you for it seemed such a long time since I saw you. I am mighty glad that you didn’t wait until you received another letter from me after I had arrived at Dallas.
July 4, 1924
When I came by the post office and found your letter, I had just returned from the garage where I carried the Elgin yesterday. It was promised this morning but the mechanics quit work at noon yesterday so as to get a good start on today’s celebration. I had wanted the push rods adjusted and also the carburetor set for this climate as it had not been changed since the cool weather in the Dakotas. Had rather planned that I would look at some property this afternoon with a view of making a deal. It will probably be Sunday afternoon before I can use it now as tomorrow will be a busy day.
Mr. Bishopp is expected home this noon so I understand.
It has been misting rain and has been cloudy all day, which is not very favorable picnic weather. I wonder how you are spending your 4th, then. I wish that I could be with you. You don’t know how very much I enjoyed being with you and I feel that I know you pretty well. Especially since you have some confidence in me. I realize that you confided in me, and “Angel Eyes” I can’t help but love you for it. The frankness with which you told me was something that I’ll always remember, and something that I’ll always admire in you.
Had I stayed over until Monday night some of your friends probably would have remarked about it, but certainly they could not have said anything unfavorable about you. I don’t believe that any of them could say anything except of a complimentary nature. I might have been criticized for not returning with the other folks, as they might have felt that I was not on the job. Your personality and the sweetness of your smile are sufficient evidence of your character, and everybody admires you, they can’t help it. There isn’t another like you, Miss Ina. You have a personal magnetism which accounts for your host of friends.
I could not expect anything else but that you did go pretty regularly with young men and I rather expected that there were about seven, for the simple reason that there are only seven days in a week. I know that each of them would want to see you at least once each week. I would consider myself fortunate if I were one of the seven. At the present I only hope that you will not be disappointed in me and that I may be favored with an occasional letter as nice as the one received today. In the short time we have known one another we have found that we have lots in common, and I trust that in the future we will find that our ideas are even more similar. To be congenial is the basis of all happiness and while it is impossible for two people to always think alike, there should be a tendency to go a little more than half-way. Most people have good intentions if we could always get their viewpoint, but there are some who consider it a weakness of character to agree with anybody.
Yesterday I posted a photo which was selected by some of the office people in Aberdeen as being the best likeness of “yours truly,” but I am of the opinion that they had a mental picture of me when I had to deal with some of the disagreeable customers. I can assure you that I am not so “hard boiled” or “half baked” as the corners of the mouth would indicate. However, this is the only pose that I have a photo of and I am taking a chance by sending it. I also enclosed one of “Johnnie Osh” and myself. I’ll try and find another one of him as he was really a cute little kid. The view from the hotel Consolation gives a fair idea of the scenery near the Swiss border and in the foothills of the Alps. I am told that other sections are more beautiful in the interior of Switzerland, but we were not permitted to cross during the War. From an airplane one can see the snow-capped Alps and get a fairly good idea of the Swiss scenery that so many rave about. It isn’t like what Mark Twain said about Arizona. He said that in Arizona one could see more cows and less milk, more chickens and fewer eggs, and see more country and see less than in any place in the world. However, there isn’t much in the foothills of the Alps except beautiful scenery and timber. We frequently listened for a yodel song but the only time we heard one was when one of our men would sing it. Johnnie’s favorite song was the “Madelon,” though he often sang “One keg of beer for the four of us.” He picked up the Army songs and could sing them before he knew what they meant.
Please remember me when you have a picture of yourself. Haven’t you a Kodak picture that you could give me? The bobbed hair is all right. You did not have yours clipped so close on the back of your head and it will be long again pretty soon, but don’t wait until it grows. I’d like a photo of those eyes and your smile, so please favor me with one. I am enclosing another of Johnnie. Found that I had duplicates in a Kodak album.
Miss Ina I’d like to have you call me Walter if you feel that you know me well enough. The “Mr.” sounds a little distant. May I leave off the “Miss” when writing you? I’ll use it when I am talking in the presence of some one else. Several times in this letter I have almost called you sweetheart but to do so might mean that I won’t get an answer. I don’t want to take that chance now, for I want to hear from you as often as you care to write. I’ll think of you as one and with tender affections but guess I’d better keep this part in reserve. But I told you I’d tell you everything and why should I keep this.
I’ll be mighty glad to get another letter real soon if you care to write, and I won’t think you are a “flapper.” Had I formed that opinion I would hever have asked you for a date. I simply feel that we have so many beliefs in common that it didn’t take us long to get acquainted. I love you, and you might as well know it now as at any other time. I hope you have confidence enough in me to believe it, for I love you far more than you have any idea.
Always,
Walter,
Box 208
