Mon cher –

Another few minutes that I’m going to steal. I’ve had such a glorious time today that I sorta hate to settle down. I’ve worked for an hour on math and so I feel I can spare a few seconds.

I haven’t written to you since you came home, just 7 weeks ago last nite. I don’t intend to start it this year as we did last year but you know, once in a while is all right. This time I’m doing it for pure sentiment.

I don’t know what you think about the subject I’m thinking of now, but I feel that the best thing that ever happened to me happened on Oct, 30-22 when I met you. Fred, if I wrote til judgment I couldn’t tell you what a help and an inspiration your friendship has been – how it has a boosted me on and let me to do this right thing. I couldn’t attempt to tell you how much you have done for me and how much happier I’ve been since I’ve known you. Fred, I never knew I’d ever, ever care as much for any living human beside my mother, as I do for you. I didn’t believe I was big enough to care so much. In fact, sometimes I’m afraid of myself and what I will do because I do care, and that, big boy, has caused the indifferent attitude you believed I had. I didn’t trust myself.

It hardly seems possible now that it has been a whole year that I have gone with you, the most wonderful year of my life, and never for a moment have I have I been sorry that I’ve known you. There hasn’t been a moment that I haven’t shared some thought with you, either with you or alone. Every bit of good news that I find – everything that happens to me makes me think of you – and my first impulse it to tell you about it. Thinking of you has becoming such a habit that I’d feel lost without it. Every boy I meet I compare to you (much to their harm) and I thank fortune and my lucky fates for bringing us together. It has meant more to me than you’ll ever, ever know. You led me to Rice, and I venture I’ll come out of it (either graduated or otherwise) a better girl, more sober and with lots more sense. I’ve sobered down so much now, I hardly recognize myself.

And listen, big boy, about that subject we touched on this afternoon – someone else! Fred, there is no one else. I don’t know whether you’ll believe me or not when I say that. Of course, once in a while (very seldom) I go out. I don’t have time for one thing – and another thing, I don’t care about going. Last year I would have been mildly thrilled to have dates, dates, dates. This year there is only one date I can say I look forward to and am not bored to death with.

That date and that nite seems to belong to me along and has for a year. During the summer while you were gone, a Sat. nite never came that I didn’t wish for you, and it didn’t seem right not to have you here, and you came home on a Sat nite, and since then we haven’t missed one – and those dates, Fred, are the dates. Please believe me when I tell you that I don’t believe out of this wide world I could find a boy I could care more for than you.

I know why I like you, Fred. I never knew before exactly. But the main reason is this. You trust me, and I have from the start, and one who trusts, believes. I never failed you and I trusted you in return, because somehow you inspire trust. No one would say anything bad about you and at first I sought vainly for different opinions about you – but there was only one thing said about you. and I’ve never had occasion to believe otherwise. You are glorious, Fred, dear, and  – oh heck! my vocabulary’s limited tonite.

I can’t say what I want to, I can’t out it down. I started out on a poem but I gave up. I’m too tired.

I told you if you’d look in the funny paper, you’d find the other thing here that belonged to you. I told you that the first letter was M and there was two letters. I also told you it was kinda big and not so useful and that it would be rather embarrasing to tell you. Gaze, mon cheri at the underscored word in this part of the funny paper + you will find out.

It’s 11:30 and I am horribly tired, I was inspired when I started but my words are all clogged up now.

This last thing, Captain Fred, out first year has passed. I always marveled at a boy + girl going together a year because I never have but I know now that about the most wonderful thing that there is, is faith, and friendship, and we have both.

May our second year be as happy and as wonderful as our first and remember that in all this world there’s only one Fred and that one specified Fred has the most vital organ of my body in his keeping – my heart.

Good nite, gras garçon, the sweetest dreams to you, and I’ll be looking forward to the Sat. nites, from now on, as I have before.

Ego amo te

Jamie vous

Florence

Tuesday 1:30 pm

Dearest Fred –

I shall make this short and sweet as pretty soon I must wend my way townward. Thursday is to be an eventful day! And thus to the end of the week. Wed, too Thurs, afternoon is a bridge party for C.B. and Thurs nite Mac entertains – dancing. Fri. we give a big blowout Sat, well, can’t be told and Sunday!!! I wonder what??? 4 more days.

You surely told me some great news in your letters. Oh glory! I see some fun ahead of Florence. Know what it is?

I’m sorry Ike won’t come with you but perhaps he will get here for the dance Fri nite. I wanted to wait til next week for the party so you could be here with the gang but C.B. leaves Sun or Mon. Dot E leaves Tuesday. We might be able to round up the rest but I doubt it. I don’t know whether it would be as you expected tho and I’d rather leave you with good memories of the gang, C? C’est ne pas.

I wouldn’t ask you to come sooner. I wish you could, tho’ And I wish Mary could be here, but she won’t be well enough Ruth is still laid up, too. and she was taken to Bay Ridge in an ambulance last Fri.

It has rained here until we’re nearly under water. All day yesterday it rained, they had the parade but it was a wet one.

And I labored – Heavens! I cleaned my room until it shone, sewed like fury, then swam for an age, and went to bed late and tired.

Your folks will be here when you get back, I know it will be quite a while before Mary is able to go back. I haven’t seen either of them yet, or Mrs. Barrow yet. I assure you, it is not my fault. I expect to take your mother out riding real soon. Now, ain’t I sweet? I was going there Sun but I didn’t want Dad to raise Cain, so I stayed home. U know, he’s sorta queer, and he insists I’m running after the family, but I know I’m not and my dear boy, I know I’ll love everyone of them and because Dad is rather old-fashioned and queer, that shan’t keep me away. Don’t feel badly, Mother’s behind me, and she’s anxious to see them as I am. Mary is still too weak to have company, especially the kind that would excite her so I can’t go yet, but I shall at the first chance I get.

So you can’t feature the notorious paragraph. Let’s hear your version. Which one were you referring to, dragging me screaming through the streets, or the other one? Tell me how you figure it out and I’ll guarantee I’ll explain. How did you take it? Huh? You see, I’ve told you my version ’cause what I wrote is my sentiments eggsactly!

Our anniversary is your father’s birthday! How strange! but I’m glad, for then you can never forget that date, never (even if you wanted to) and you were thrilled when I came into the room minus the paint, mask and gypsy costume? And you were not disappointed? Ah! my dear! I shouldn’t even begin to tell you my feelings, right after all the thrill of buying (or trying out) the car!

Nothing ever happens that is interesting. Well! if I won’t give you the groom’s boquet of hand picked grapenuts!!! awarded for the queerest person, also the 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th prizes, whatever they might be.

Nothing ever happen! Such a dead town! Heavens! child, come home and caro mia, I’ll attempt to show you a little excitement and a few thrills and maybe I might find a few real thrills for myself. I hope so, for I’m positively dying for a little excitement and if I don’t get it I shall say “goodbye, cruel world” and jump off a cliff “That’s a bluff) Ha Ha.

Beware of my wit today for I shall surely use it on u.

So E.C.H.S. won’t be forgotten, I assure you C.H.S won’t either for oodles of them are coming out.

Well, the folks have gone to the double header baseball today. Beaumont + Houston. I shall go to town,  hunt dresses and ribbons + a date book, but I must write a few more letters.

Au revior, faithful one, Je vous adorez

Florence

Dearest Fred o’mine –

I had a surprise last nite that nearly knocked me over! I’ve gotten so many of them lately that I ought to be used to them. I answered the phone and it was a girl. She talked a little like a boy I like awful well and she asked for me – then informed me that it was Mary Stancliff. My dear you could have knocked me over with a tooth pick!!!!! She came up Tuesday but didn’t call me til last nite – for various reasons – anyway, she’s to be operated on Fri morning – for appendicitis. Did you know it? I guess, of course, your folks have told you about it. I talked to her a long, long time and she’s awful interesting. It really gave me a thrill – Honest! She will be in the hospital for a week or maybe longer – and I don’t intend to give her a chance to get lonesome, believe me! I’ll go about it in a very dignified sort of way, tho – Ha Ha. Anyway – I’ll get to meet your mother and sister – and you’ll be here, too.

I’m awful glad you decided on the 9th, you’ll get to be with your folks in Houston + help cheer Mary up, and maybe you might be able to stay here a little longer since your mother + sister are here. So, Big Boy, I think you’ve decided wisely. I intended writing you today and telling you they were here and to come home the 9th, C? Then I got your letter. My dear, are you well? Are you sure your head has not been smashed in some sort of accident? or that someone has stolen your brilliant mind away? Three letters in three days!! Thank the Fates you have come back to normal. Now, for the love of Jeremiah’s children, keep up the good work. It gives a fellow an excuse for living, and that’s something I haven’t had lately.

So Fred just can’t wait any longer. He’s getting impatient + restless. Well, well, and he’s going to quit a week ahead of time. Tell me, big boy, why has the sudden fever of anxiety + longing + restlessness taken such absolute possession of you. You really flatter me, m’dear. You think of me so much lately – (I wonder) – you want to see me so bad (I wonder) – Am I the only one? Haven’t you any regrets living P.A.? After all it’s a good place. Why should you feel as you do toward it? I’m sure it has done nothing to earn your contempt. When you leave, Mon Ami, please thank Port Arthur for me for me won’t you, please? I can’t tell you for what because you wouldn’t understand but please thank it for me from the depths of my heart.

The people next door are playing “Daddy won’t you please come home, I need you badly, Daddy won’t you please come home.” One of those moonin’ blues, now – oh, Good Grief – it’s “Sunny Tennessee” – I wonder of whom you are thinking? Someone sometime, now where____??? Oh, yes I can see your lips curl in disgust for my mentioning it, ah, you, I can hear you thinking.” ah! the creature, could I but drag her (me), screaming, thru the streets with her mouse colored hair grasped in my strong right hand, the hand that hurls 16 lbs, swiftly thru  42 feet, the strong right hand that hurls 4(?) lbs over 145 (?) ft. had I but her at my mercy, dare she remind me of someone else. Then she would realize that the mercy of man in, upon her bended knee would she beg my forgiveness – while I stony-faced would stand above her, scorn her, my strong arms folded over my mighty chest, in which a heart beats for her alone, but she should not know it. Dare, she, remind me of someone else. Oh! I am a hundred or more miles away from her, she is beyond me. here I sit reading it. I can’t wreck my fury on her as I should like to do for we are apart.  Allans! whisper it not to a soul! I should get even with her, in only a short week! Oh! death, where is thy sting!”

Now, that was a grand free for all outburst. Profit by that, mon ami, commonly called “caveman stuff.” Most girls adore it, and it is up to the boy to find out which girls do, C? Strength, and courage, dare and fearlessness, only accomplish that miracle. How do I know. Ah! They say experience is the best teacher. After one looks on life through the rose colored veil of illusion. Has not love whispered his devilish lies into your ears and I laughed at you? You had escaped it? Oh! Fortunate one – your eyes have not yet been opened to disillusion. Grasp the joy while you may, for all too soon, alas! Comes the viper and stings, stings until the heart within you turns cold, and bitter, and life became a mockery. Grasp what you can of bliss while it is offered, for at the end of each of our roads the House of Lost Souls awaits us.

Fred, I wish I could explain that above paragraph. I know that broad, intellectual brow of yours is drawn into a frown and you are saying to yourself “What is that child thinking of. Does she fancy she is old as Helen of Troy? Does she think she knows so much of life?” Well, that’s up to you. You know me better than most, perhaps. You have been given a deeper sight than most, and I fancy you have taken advantage of it – as for illusion – and the serpent. I was stung once, and I’m pretty well disillusioned. Yes, even for one so young, a little over 17.

2 p.m.

Well, I’ve been quite industrious.

3:15 p.m.

Yes, so much so – I don’t even have this time to finish this letter. I feel lots better, too, except that my throat is holding its winter carnival and taking several holidays, and I’m crazy enough to go in swimming too. A few couples of us are going tonite and I just can’t say out, simply can’t, so I’m going. Haven’t been in since Mon, Gee! such a long, long time!I sure miss it. I was going in yesterday.

Got downtown + was buying a few things. I got so dizzy I had to grab a counter, and I began to feel numb all over, and my throat began aching. So, thinks I to meself, perhaps I better come home + call off the swim and I did, you know I must have felt pretty bad if I refused a swim. Perhaps I’ll learn how to dive tonite. Oh! Glory! Caro mio, when you come home, we’ll sure have to go swimming, and maybe Mary can go. I doubt it but perhaps, Oh! I tell you, things are beginning to pick up here in this tame town. Thank fortune. Fred, it’s rather a pity but I’m utterly lost without excitement. I’m miserable if there’s nothing to do. I used to be able to drown my troubles in a real interesting novel but times have changed. Books bore me. I adore to write, I believe I’ve spent half my summer writing to you. I know you have a trunk full of letters. I’ve written you. Do you know that exactly10 months ago today, the 30th I met you? 10– mon ami! To think I’ve known you for 10 long months and like you better now than I ever did. You know, that seems to queer to me. I mean, please don’t misunderstand me that I’ve always thought “variety was the spice of life” and that “If God could love all the boys, why couldn’t I love a dozen?” And so I’ve gone from one boy to another – changed hands, as you chose to call it, and closed myself up in a shell + marked “No admittance – Private” and then the Fates decided they’d teach me something more and they arranged our meeting. That was great! Honestly they did me the biggest favor ever done by them – for I began to believe once more. I was in  pretty hot hands, believe me, but I didn’t realize it until afterwards.

Will surely have to celebrate 2 months from now for that’s our first anniversary. (Oh! Goodness! this is so sudden, think’st not so?)

Well, I must stop for now. I have to go up town with Mother + I have to dress. C.U.L.O.M.

Cor. Main + Jefferson

4:35 pm

I find I’ll have to quit. I’ll be hitting it hard from now on so au revior.

Have you ever met “the girl” in P.A. I asked you to tell me all about her – won’t you? Huh –

Please write to me before Sbt (?) week, won’t you?

Oodles + bushels + tons +gobs of love.

Florence

In front of Levy’s

Just beat a fellow into a place + oh! He sure told little Flo what he thought of her. It sure was hateful  o’ me but if one doesn’t take things one doesn’t get them, eh. What, m’dear?

Flo