September 21, 1925, 8 AM, Chillicothe, Ohio, to El Paso

Dearest Helen, This is the second epistle to you for today – I don't know whether I will send the first one or not, but any way it's written, indicating that something unusual has happened in my young life – I guess I'm just beginning to realize how much I really do love you. I've never been so lonesome for you in my life, and I'm going to have to see you at Xmas some way or other, though at present I don't know how. I've been taking things easy today – took my grandmother for a ride this afternoon, + that's about all. Well, I guess when I do get started working, I'll have to work like the dickens to try to forget about you. Love, Henry

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Dearest Helen, I'm off the train at last, but I've still got the clickety-click in my ears – and all the songs you sang to me keep running through my head, keeping time. I've got the blues – for you I guess I could have stayed a few days longer as well as not. And I don't see why I didn't now. You can't realize how much I miss you. I don't feel normal without you. Well, I guess I'll get out of this crazy spell some time. Love, Henry
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