Viewing page 4 of 141

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

4

now Bud is married to E. Flaherty, I am engaged, and of the four who sat around the bridge table that night, only Dode, the loveliest and the best of us all, remains unattached. I hope she too may know love's sweetness and she will be won by a man who is truly worth of her, for I know there are few girls in this world who are any sweeter and nobler and better than she. And so we called on Fran and Ed and Boots and thought of many things and finally wandered home in the near twilight of the New Year's evening.

Ah, how well I do remember last New Year's night when I waited with a pounding heart the arrival of the 6:39 in Schenectady. And how it finally came with Willie; how we sat quite silently side by side as the great flyer whirled us through the night, and how happy we were in our newfound happiness, how the hour and a quarter passed by like a green block past that hurtling train, a spot of beauty and then gone in the night. So our precious fleeting happiness with each other was gone, and I watched the red lights blink away mockingly into the west carrying my dearest with them. This New Year's night, we had a whole long evening with each other in the quietness of home, we for the most part quiet too, side by side once more. And how sweet it is to hold her in my arms and kiss her hair, her eyes, her cheeks, to have her put her lips to mine in a long kiss of love and youth and joy. How sweet to know she is mine, all mine, as I look down into her dear face. Ah, how priceless is that possession! How much to be cherished, so much to be worthy of.

And so has come the new year to us, to all, full of infinite possibilities. May we start to mould it now, not waiting for some faroff day, but now, every day, always trying, and doing our best. Hail 1926! And may we do you justice.

Syracuse, N.Y.,
January 2, 1926.

This morning Willie and I went downtown to attend to various things such as tickets, baggage, bankbooks, etc. We had luncheon at the Sunflower and then went home, spending the afternoon and evening with Mother, visiting in just a homelike way that is so good sometimes. We gave up every minute grudgingly for tomorrow Willie goes; hard to believe it is almost over, and then many more months of separation, hard months and trying to one's patience and one's heart. But they will make us appreciate our happiness even more when at last they can be no more.

Syracuse, N.Y.,
January 3, 1926.

This marks the end of our ten days of great happiness. We all