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North Pole, March 14, 1934

Dear Doris:

I was glad to hear from you again. I am afraid that I shall not be able to come to Washington very soon even if some one does come up to take my place. The reason is that poor old Santa has been sick for several days. He has been working very hard making sleds and skates, and I think he got tired out. Then he went out fishing one afternoon and managed to fall in the cold water, and when he got home his clothes were frozen stiff. I thawed him out and put him to bed, and there he has stayed ever since. He has been very sick to his stomach and has vomited a great deal. He has no appetite and what little he eats won't stay down. I have been giving him some medicine which he says tastes very nasty, but he takes it just the same. I hope that he will get over it in a few days.

A few days ago I caught a little polar bear cub and now have it in the cage outside our house. It is only a few days old, and we feed it milk from a bottle. It is the dearest little thing you ever saw. It is pure white and about the size of a kitten, and it mews just [[strikethrough]] lisk [[/strikethrough]] like a kitten. Perhaps you may see it some day.

Your friend,

Mickey Mouse