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[[underlined]] To Willie [[/underlined]] -- "61", Again on the Thrice Blessed Pumps, Night of January 7-8, 1926. -- It seems I would give most anything in the world to see you. I dare not think of it too much lest I forget all reason and go to Louisville tomorrow to see you. Am I utterly dumb to harken to the voice of reason that tells me that to do such a thing would be nothing less than inexcusable extravagance? Or should I harken to that insistent little voice that says, "Go, my boy. What is a mere hundred to love?" Little Demon in me, you will drive me to that ticket office yet! ...... Bolton, the VPI boy, is on the hydrogen seal tonight and is sitting quite close by. He has been peacefully sleeping most of the time, so on the occasion of one nap, I drew a picture of him, and being a profile, it was a trifle more succesful than the one I tried to draw of you. And not being satisfied with the picture alone, I must needs write a ditty beneath it. The ditty is hardly to be compared with Miss Millay's poem I sent you yesterday. It is in modesty that I say this, of course:

There was a young fellow named Bolton.
The hydrogen seal he was holton.
But he slipped off to sleep
And his slumbers were deep;
When he woke, the bearings were molton.

I'm sure you'll agree with me that it is time I signed off for the night after that.

Schenectady, N.Y.,
Friday, January 8, 1926.
Early this morning as I was sitting in the world's most uncomfortable chair attempting the impossible, namely to sleep, I was rudely interrupted by Mr. Pixton, who informed me that Means desired to see me. So I went to see Means at eight and was made very happy by the news that if I wished to, I could report in Erie next Monday morning, January 11. I did wish to and went home in a state of mind bordering on elation squared. And so my plans are working out even better than I'd dared hope they would. I had hoped I might be sent to Erie in another three months or so and here I'm almost on the way the first of the year! In it I see the plan all working out and I marvel at it. It means I shall see Willie again within a couple of months (if I can wait that long). It means that I shall be in Erie at a very busy time and be getting that railroad experience I want so badly. It means new Faith, new courage, new joy in living, all these things that themselves mean so much. And so the road begins to open up ahead of me and life seems once more to be so glorious. And it is strange that just before Pixton saw me, I was writing Willie about the temptation of taking the train to Louisville one of these weekends. But I said,