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290 Walnut Street
Stoughton, Mass.
April 13, 1947

Dear folks,

I am on my way out to Stoughton now, swaying along in the subway at 8:00. Picked up good 20¢ breakfast first.

The square dance last night was very interesting, but tiring before three hours were over. We did old English as well as American square dances, and interpolated a waltz-polka now and then. I am not worried about Judy anymore: Dick spoke of us all getting together--to hear some South African records of hers (he sang a dozen or more of them over our fruit-cups until I could hardly keep my eyes open), and, though he did ask me to a folk-dancing festival (refused) in West Virginia, I don't think he was much disappointed. He seems like the sort of person who isn't seriously interested in anybody. I was quite an awkward dancer, too. Got rid of Sol by answering his letter--and innocently describing the climate and progress of spring for over three pages in a pedantic style that ought to frighten any man away.

Mr. Gilpatrick will be the name of the [[strikethrough]] new [[/strikethrough]] minister quite shortly. [[strikethrough]] He [[/strikethrough]] Bradner has been voted out.

Maude has a beautiful Easter lily--still open, while Grandma's last flower is wasted. On her night table is now a huge, silver-framed picture of young Ralph that Florence recently found at the bottom of a drawer. She has seen the boys