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Wednesday Evening

Dear Folks,

In the midst of ironing I am going to stop and write to you if only a few lines, for I am afraid you will think I am sick if I don't.

Miss Garland is packing. S he hopes to get off Friday P.M.  If not, she will go Saturday morning; after which I hope to get something accomplished, but it is not always easy to see what may pop up. It seems she has been systematically [[strikethrough]] blacking [[/strikethrough] blacking my eye to folks here in the house, at school, and to a certain extent about town.  Now she is like a grinning, purring cat - terribly good.  I have not said anything, but I plan to move by September if not before.  Apparently none of them is aware of the fact that I know what she has been doing.  Besides this I am tired of her perpetual faultfinding, complaints, and ever-lasting humming.  Also she objects to my typing when she is here, to getting up before she does in the morning, because she says