March 6, 1928, Baltimore to El Paso

Dearest, Spring is beginning to look like it was on the way – and that means that summer is not so faroff. I got a letter from Mother today, saying that she had the pleasure of your company for dinner the other day – and that she loved you more every time she saw you. She also said that Dad had traded in the old Chrysler on a Willys-Knight. …................................................................................................................................................................. In the mean time, I've just been over to supper, and had a good piece of lemon pie for dessert. Can you make them – are you really getting some experience now, or are you + your dad keying the Modern going? I wish I had you up here now – just to cuddle up for a few minutes, before I start to grind, even, would help a lot I miss you an awful lot. I'm afraid I'm not much good at love-making by mail, dear. But I think you know my feeling, anyway, don't you? We had a lecture on allergy (hay fever, asthma , hives, etc) Saturday and another one this morning; and this afternoon we had a clinic on a case illustrating it. Its very interesting, but the lectures were given by a rather uninteresting professor. We also had a clinic on diabetes this afternoon – Otherwise , things are going on per usual. We haven't had any returns from the midyears yet, so I don't expect we'll get any.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

March 15, 1928, Baltimore to El Paso

Dearest, Things progress as usual, except that among other things, I've been combatting a cold for the past 3 or four days. I had a quiz in Gynecological and Obstetrical pathology yesterday – Guess I hit it all right, but not any too well – and furthermore there's a possibility of a quiz in obstetrics tomorrow. I had an interesting case in the dispensary today; and my diagnosis was as good as any ones else, so that tickled me a little bit. Only a couple of months till the next siege of exams – and then a few weeks more, and I'll be seeing you. Somehow – I've got the blues a little bit tonight, + I sure wish you were with me, to shove them off or chase them away as the case might be. Tomorrow I take a half-hour ride out to Bay view. The nut factory is located out there + and we look them over about once a month. Bively + his girl have just come in – I asked her what to tell you and she said, “I love you.” So consider it said, dear. I only wish that I could think of ...
Read more

March 27, 1924, Austin to Brookline, Massachusetts

Dearest Helen (alias Texas) When you've been in class all morning long, listening to boresome lectures, and you come home all tired out, and then – you get a longer letter from your girl than you've had for a long time, a letter full of darlings, and honeys and with an “I love you” at the end, “Ain't it a grand and glorious feeling? I says it is. I've just finished tinkering with my pipe. The bowl was so big that it took me an hour to smoke a pipeful, so I put a kind of a plug in it like this: tobacco bowl plug [drawing of pipe with actual tobacco in its the bowl] how do you like that. You never have told me about the bet. You say that you love me, darling; but how am I to believe you, when you accept such a wonderful bet. If you really do love me, you can't lose. Now, Can you? Well, in just about 2 ½ more months I'll be seeing my old sweetheart again, and then I'll know whether she loves me or not. You sure are lucky sleeping till 10:30, 11:30, 12:30.etc, ...
Read more

September 29, 1927, Amherst, Massachusetts, to El Paso

Sept. 28 Dearest : Yes, I feel that way. Your letter came – true – but a little too early to be the herald of October. I feel humble when I write this letter and I want you to remember this when you read it. I have already answered your letter once, in a harmony with yours ___ but I have burned it after a day of thinking it over. I can't go on this way indefinitely. News, news and all the rest that is superficial but not much of you. It is true also that in a way I should be content – I am not. There is something that torments and irritates. I am afraid I fail to quality in the Griselde class. Perhaps they no longer exist as in 1600. Any how, I love you. I think you do or did or will love me and so I am not content without at least some of you. If you by any chance think this impudence, be frank with yourself and me. Memory is a cherished posession, but it doesn't suffice for me in harboring you as I would. I would like to say all the pretty little turns poets gi...
Read more