Viewing page 147 of 291

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

Erie, Pa.,
Saturday, Sept. 24, '38.

As Rog was complaining again about "that feeling" in his stomach, Willie took him this afternoon to Dr. Gammon the child specialist, who gave him a thorough going over, and said there was nothing serious wrong. His liver is upset and he has an acid condition. So he prescribed acidophilus (which we are having the devil's own time to make Rog take), liquid diet for a few days, no fat of any kind, and some other pills that act like calomel.

Had Walt and Maybelle Scarborough in this evening for bridge. Maybelle looked more attractive than in a long time, having lost some weight since her operation. Her legs and feet in sheer hose, as she sat on the divan, her skirt up to her knees, were most alluring, and would rate a hosiery ad anywhere. I made up some ginger ale (the ladies' preference) bourbon highballs that had considerable authority and Walt drank beer. This all accelerated the evening to quite some jollity. Later I played some records which Maybelle made a noble effort to appear interested in, but her magazine reading at the same time rather gave her away. Walt was a better listener. 

Mother determined not to come downstairs primarily, I know, because she thinks Maybelle is not interested in her. One of the first things Maybelle said was to inquire for her. That is typical of Mother's attitude toward Willie's friends, an imagined grievance here and there something in actions that alienates the younger people from her. But I can't tell her so; she would fly off the handle in a minute if I did.

There has been a lot of gossip about Maybelle in the last year or two but I find I like her immensely. I also like Walt, a sometimes queer, morose dude, but more often a very good and interesting companion.

Transcription Notes:
Reviewed