Sunday, September 14, 2014

February 4, 1927

My sweetheart,

Your sweet letters are a wonderful inspiration to me. Each time one arrives, I am more convinced than ever that you do care. And each time I think of the job ahead of me to live and act so as to always deserve your love. I try to appreciate all that a girl gives up for the man she loves, and how much of a sacrifice she makes when she leaves family and friends for a "gamble". God willing, I want to do and be that which would give you no cause in the future, to regret that out of all the men you know, you saw fit to take me for your husband. I know that you will do your part, and I see no reason why we cannot be the happiest of mortals.

One of the men from the station was out Sunday with his wife. She doesn't think I ought marry yet. She does not believe in early marriage and she therefore says, "you ought to wait until you're 25 at least." Now do I look so young as all that? We had a good laugh at her expense, but I'm so bull headed that I'll propose to you the next time I see you. Of course I still insist that you asked me. Why shouldn't I; I have the proof. You should have been more careful that there were not so many present when you did the act. I was so embarrassed, I couldn't say no (and I wouldn't, either!)

If Mother comes up that way with Dad - I guess she'll let you know when she'll see you. Of course it was her intention to go to Mother Veach for a day or so's visit. I am myself beginning to look for some excuse to go to Lima, and one of these days, I'll find it. I hate so much though to impose on Sue always. It does not seem fair. (If the roads are impassible though, I'll have to do it, to see you.)

Of course this year of all of them, Easter has to be late. If I could muster enough votes in the legislature, I'd pass a law requiring Easter to move up some weeks. Then what would you do to hold me off?

I am sending under separate cover a book which I think you'll like. One of the girls at the office let me read it sometime ago. It is a book of travel, and it gives me the wanderlust. But you and I will postpone our distant travels until we are beter able to make long trips. (and maybe by that time, we'll have three or four in the party, instead of just two. What about that?)

I am supposed to be working now - but it's not work to talk to you. I love you, I want you. And when I get you, I'll want to keep you - always.