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17

how to run a speed curve now. This evening I called up Mr. Macloskie and he promised to drop around to see me tomorrow on the test floor. I am afraid I shall be unable to shake his hand for oil on mine, though. Time to write my letters.

[[underlined]] To Willie, January 14, 1926 [[/underlined]]: When I come to Louisville, I know I shall be fat, for I have a peach of a boarding house, and I eat a lot. I don't know as I am qualified to judge boarding houses since this is the first one I ever attended but I know it is a good one. It isn't at all high hat, rather like the typical ones you see in the movies with the old men, the school teachers, the cut-ups, and the middle-aged ladies. But it really is fun, and oh, how I do eat! I can see my face becoming fuller already. ...... I have an awfully nice room, and the people here are just as nice as they can be. Their name is Schryver, a young married couple about thirty, with a dear little girl, and they are so kind and cheery and pleasant, I am certainly happy to be with them. She has a washing machine and does all my laundry, darns my socks, mends my clothes, presses my trousers, anything like that I want done, she is only too glad to do. They aren't people that belong to the upper class, but they are "real folks." He is a toolmaker, and a mighty nice fellow. I am almost as happy here as at Miss Comstock's already, and thanks to them, I haven't had a chnace to get the "new place blues" at all. 

Erie, Pa., 
Friday, January 15, 1926.

Allende comes over every morning for a chat and is most interesting, his talk always on worthwhile subjects. He is particularly interested in religion and has studied theology some. His family are all Catholics, of course, but he says that once he began to study and think, he couldn't accept Catholicism. He is a real Unitarian all right, saying, "I believe that Christ was a man. You know, in Paris they have a standard meter with which all others are compared; the same thing. People are so superstitious about Christ, they will not see anyone else who is great -- Socrates, Aristotle, Budda --" 

Walsh, however, I fail to penetrate. He firmly refuses to say anything that might give the slightest clue to his nature, his tastes, or his ideas about anything. I tried all day to draw him out but he simply wouldn't be drawn. He is very pleasant, jolly, friendly, but he wont talk about anything but the matters that pertain directly to the work. I should like to pierce his shell sometime, and I hope I shall. Can it be that he conceals nothing, that he has no deeper side to be reticent about? I don't think so. I hope we shall find out. 

Today I began to see the light with regard to some of the setups on the floor. The pump-back is still a bit baffling if one