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[[underlined]] To Willie, August 12, 1924: [[/underlined]] For the very first time in my life since I started school, September will roll around and not bring the thought of returning to lessons again. You must appreciate that last year, Willie, for it is a great thing to be able to go to school. Mother used to tell me that my school days were the happiest days of my life if I only realized it. Now I know they were the most [[underlined]] carefree [[/underlined]] but I doubt if they were the happiest. It is great, after all, to get out in the great Game of Life, and see it in all its glory -- for it certainly is a glorious game if one only chooses to play it right. It is becoming more fascinating and engrossing -- more marvelous every day. I guess at last the time has come when I'm truly maturing, for each day finds me more able to appreciate and enjoy the finer things -- the things that you care about so much, too. ...... The 7:30 p.m. whistles have just blown at the plant -- they call the night force to its labors and the great industry goes on while the rest of us sleep in preparation for tomorrow. There certainly is romance to it all. I Took a walk through building 60, the largest machine shop in the world, and it [[underlined]] is [[/underlined]] a mammoth place. It is just as though the shop where I work were a doll's shop and 60 were the real thing. They have machines in there that tower up and u p -- perfectly gigantic affairs, where they machine all those huge turbines I told you about. To walk through a place like that sets one to thinking about all the wonderful things engineering is doing for the world. ...... I am certainly glad to hear that you are getting fat. If I gained five pounds, I'd pass out with surprise. I know I never shall be any fatter than I am now. ...... Your mention of the old darky who sings at his work, reminds me of the way I sing at mine just to make the time go faster. But no one hears me because of the noise of the machinery all around me. If they could hear me, I should not sing. ...... Speaking of poetry, I love the old poets best, of course -- Tennyson, Keats, Shelley, Byron, Wordsworth -- and Keats the best of all, I think. But of all the modern poetry I8ve run across so far, I think that Sara Teasdale appeals to me the strongest. Have you ever read any of her things? "Rivers to the Sea" you should get sometime and see if you don't enjoy it. It is a little book of short poems. We ought to swap passages from our favorites in our letters. That would be good fun.

"--And when the night is nigh,
Lambs bleat my lullaby."

-- from "The Diasy's Song" by Keats.

Those are two of the prettiest little lines I have ever read.

[[underlined]] To Willie, August 18, 1924: [[/underlined]] If I were you, Willie, I should not worry about the future and what it holds for you. You will land in the right spot and never doubt it for one single moment. I used to worry about what I was going to do when I got through school -- what sort of a job I would start in on -- where I would

Transcription Notes:
"I8ve" in the bottom third of the page should be "I've", but I left it as written--thomasc