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Miss Carpenter had a card from Julia in Tokyo that she showed to me yesterday. Julia said that spring was at last coming there, thanks be. I bet she has suffered from the cold. She feels it terribly even in Wash D.C. with all the heating here.

I am still grinding away on Myochrous, - at work now on the Central American material, boiling up beetles and dissecting and dissecting and trying to make some order in the mass of unidentified stuff here so when I go to Cambridge where the types are I can recognize what is what. I shall probably have a lot of new ones to describe. Chapin has promised to take my paper when it is done in the Proc. Nat. Museum.

Dad has been having a time with the car. He thought he would have to have the valves ground again (at $10) but another garage judged it another trouble and supposedly fixed it yesterday for $12. If the car will only hang together another year we may be able to have a new one. The longer we wait, tho, the lower the price may be. It has gone from $800 prewar up to around $1300.

Well, I must try to scribble a line to Grandma before I leave to join the Baptists. They are dreadfully Baptisty of late, aggravated by a convention here, and I just sit in a corner and think how fortunate I am not to be one yet have a ride in.

Love,
Mother.