Dec 1940-Mar 1941

DECEMBER

Postmark December 18, 1940

From: Miss Mabel Dixon

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, Kings Creek, Kentucky

JANUARY

Postmark January 6, 1941

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, Kings Creek, Kentucky

From: Mabel Dixon, Box 76, Blackey, Ky

Blackey, Kentucky

January 5, 1941

 

Dear Earl,

 

I'm going to start this letter now but I probably won't get much writing done until Charlie McCarthy goes off the radio. Yes, I'm still going nutty over listening to the radio so much and—along with other things too numerous to mention.

 

Well, what do you know? The announcer just mentioned a new candy bar "Goo-goo." He said, the next time you stop at your candy counter say, "Goo-goo!" Now, that would be O.K. if the person behind the counter was a handsome guy! Goo-goo!

 

Did you folks just about freeze going home yesterday evening? I didn't know it was so awfully cold! Yesterday morning we got in the taxi at the store and we didn't have time to get cold. We weren't out very much yesterday in town, but yesterday evening when I got off the train and started down the railroad I thought I was going to blow away—and was that wind cold! It just took me about 20 minutes to get home. Bernice had been here about an hour when I got here.

 

Last night I sat up and listened to the radio until about 10:30. I typed out a few songs to pass the time away and did some "wishful thinking." Can you guess what I was wishing? I was just thinking how nice it would be if you were here, too, but you weren't—so, that's that.

 

This morning I says to myself, "I'm not going to get up until I get good and ready!" And I didn't, but don't you say I'm lazy. I got up at 9:45. I suppose I should have gotten up early because today was church time here. Daddy had already gone to church when I got up.

 

Jessie was sorta gloomy yesterday, wasn't she? Don't tell her I said so, though! I think I know why. She said she felt out of place with us. Guess Joe’s going to have to see town more often, don’t you? Bet you think I’m an awfully big question box, don’t you? But do you think Jessie and Joe like one another—maybe love is the word? That’s the reason I said I hoped they didn’t get married because I didn’t think they liked one another well enough. But I may be wrong. Anyway I guess it’s none of my business who folks marry but I do want to see them happy, especially my best friends.

 

Talking about Jessie being gloomy I guess I was too much of a rattlebrain or whatever you call it. After I got home yesterday I began thinking of some of the things I’d said to you and Crit and others and I just hoped you’d turned your noses up at me and not even listened to what I was saying. I think next time I’ll leave my tongue at home if it can’t behave any better.

 

I’ve been typing songs again today. I have 94 songs typed just the way I wasn’t them, but my job has just started because I have about 500 songs in my collection—maybe more—and they’re all mountain ballads, cowboy songs, etc.

 

Do you know all of the song of “I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen”? Don’t you think it’s so pretty? The reason I like songs so well is the story they tell. I didn’t used to pay much attention to that part of the song. (Boy, what good grammar usage in that sentence, but I can’t figger out how else to say it!) I also typed the song, “Empty Saddles” and I had the creepiest feeling. The radio (again?) was on and some thrilling adventure of Grethel’s was on, too, so (if you know the song—ghosts returning, etc.) I had a fine background for the creepy feeling.

 

Do you know why people use this word “etc.”? The answer is: To make other people think you know more than you do. Isn’t someone smart to figure that out? It wasn’t me. I’m just passing it on.

 

Do I mind your saying, “Dearest”? If you’re sure that’s the way you feel and you “must necessarily say that” what can I do about it? I’ll just sit back on the side-line and listen because I’m not sure that you want me to follow you. Anyway I’d be conceited if I did and I hope I’m not!

 

You said you were superstitious. Well, I am, too. They say that whatever you do on New Year’s Day you’re likely to be doing it the rest of the year. Well, I just thought and thought about you so I’d be sure to keep it up all year, that is, if you don’t mind ‘cause if you do I’ll stop right now. I hope you don’t mind too much.

 

Bernice almost had me believing something yesterday. She and Mable Nichols and Hettie Back came in the “Sweet Shoppe” and sat down in the booth next to ours. You had your overcoat hanging on the back of the booth and the inside pocket was turned towards them. She said my letter was in the pocket and they read it! But I made her ‘fess the truth. She said they only read what they could see sticking out. I thought I might pass the bit of news on. Maybe they shouldn’t be so snoopy! I can say things like that to her and get by with it—sometimes—but I’d be afraid to tell the others.  

 

(Editor’s Note: The Sweet Shoppe was a very popular meeting place for the young crowd for several years in Whitesburg, Kentucky.)

 

O.K. I won’t try to sidetrack you concerning Goldie’s and Charlie’s sayings but I still say, “Don’t believe them.”

 

I don’t care whether you take a course in letter-writing or not. Seems as if you do a pretty good job without the course. I noticed one thing, though, that I notice in most everyone else’s let I get. Take Dad and Mom for instance. See if you get the point. When I’m off in school I’ll write back home and ask about a thousand and one questions (gosh, maybe that’s my answer right there—), anyway, I ask several questions about this, that, or the other. When I get a letter from them do you suppose I get any answers? No, not one! If I don’t ask questions they think I don’t care what happens to the place after I get gone, and if I do ask questions I don’t get any answers, so there! Get the point? Or did I ask one too many? Count the question marks.

 

I don’t think boys, as a rule, are supposed to write longer letters than girls, are they? There’s no law against it, though, so don’t get scared.

 

Time out: refill on fountain pen. Now to finish what I was saying. The reason I think boys don’t write letters as long as girls do are that they just don’t naturally talk as much. They’re used to girls (some of them) doing all the talking and they just can’t get into the habit of writing very much. Reckon that’s right?

 

Boy, Mama got after me yesterday evening. She said, “Little girl, don’t you wear those slippers another time this winter.” I asked her why and she told me to up and get me another pair of slippers because those were too thin. So this little girl has to get herself off to Hazard next Saturday and by her some shoes, maybe slippers. Guess I ought to get a pair of high-top boots. No, I’ve got a pretty pair of slippers already picked out.

 

Bernice and I have been working all day trying to plan a suitable college budget. We paid $50 on a note yesterday so our budgeting had to be shaved on all sides. I don’t know how it will work yet. I think we’ll come out on top.

 

I dread starting back teaching tomorrow but I’ll be glad when it’s over. I’m going to be busy as a bee if I get ready to go to school when I have to. I’ll do like I did last year—throw things together then leave part of them. A person wouldn’t be getting the right start to school if he didn’t forget something!

 

Well, time shore does fly! 9:15 and bedtime on hand. Sweet dreams!

 

Goodnight,

Mabel

 

P.S. I didn’t step up two pages just because you did, but you can if you want to.

 

Postmark January 14, 1941

From: M. Dixon, Box 76, Blackey, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, Kings Creek, Kentucky

Sunday night, January 12, 1941.

Dear Earl,

I think maybe I've settled down enough to answer your letter. I just got it this evening but I'm going to answer it just the same.

Daddy went to Blackey Friday but he forgot to call for the mail. Grethel went yesterday but I was gone and didn't get back until this evening. 

You know what? I'm getting to be a jim-dandy hand at missing trains. I don't miss them to keep from coming home, either. 

Yesterday I went to Hazard and came back to one of my uncle's, Jerry Dixon (he knows your dad), at Cornettsville on the bus. I intended to come home last night on the train but Uncle Jerry wouldn't let me come. Ther were so many people drunk and drinking around the depot that I didn't fancy it much anyway. I was going to come up on the train this morning. Uncle Jerry said, "You have about half an hour," but just as I was combing my hair the train passed. So I didn't get home until about 1:30 P.M. Uncle Jerry's son-in-law brought me up. I suppose I'm going to have to stay at home awhile so I'll quit getting passed up. 

Just think! Only three more weeks of school! Boy, will I be glad! I bet you will be glad, too, won't you? Does Jessie have to make up any lost days? I was just wondering when she was going to Morehead. I wish she would go as we go. I'd like to have a little company. Bernice is about as much company as a rock—won't talk. 

Your, "Yes, I found not one but three," reminded me of something I saw in the Courier-Journal today—"Yes, we have no bananas." 

You didn't know there was a Santa Claus? My, My!

Thank you for the nice answers to my questions. I'll admit that it's been just like working a puzzle trying to get them to make sense. I've been reading them until I remember most of the questions except the "yeah and no" ones. I just had to smile out loud a few times but, thanks just the same. I didn't think I'd get such a good response. That's the first time. You must be pretty good at taking hints. I didn't start out with that idea in mind but that's the way it ended. I reckon as long as I got results it was O.K.

Why do you think people ask questions anyway if they don't want an answer? No use forgetting them. They might be pretty important. 

Written along the side of the page: I've been thinking a whole big lot! 

Talking about copying love-letters—did you ever read the book "Dere Mable"? Boy, if you haven't you've missed something! Lord Byron's love-letters would look awfully cheap beside Bill's (he's the rookie in the army that wrote to "Dere Mable.") I'd be afraid to copy anyone else's letters for fear the other person might be doing the same thing and run across some familiar phrase or word. Even at that when I can't get something said just right I'm going to reserve the right to quote you—with your permissions. 

Have you decided what you're going to do when school closes? Bernice is about to back out on going to school. I don't know what she wants to do now—she doesn't either. Guess I'll just keep plugging away at what I'm doing now—and be an old maid school-teacher. Imogene, Uncle Jerry's girl, and I decided today that we were going to take nurse's training then train to be airplane stewardesses—and sure enough I'd like that. I have always wanted to be an aviatrix, anyway, and when I mentioned it to Mama she just shuddered and said maybe no. Fancy ideas some people get, huh? 

You said you liked two parts of my letter. I don't know which parts they were but if they were about you I know I meant them. There's one thing I don't like and that's saying things you don't mean when you're supposed to be telling the truth. I guess one would call it, "Feeding someone a line." That's all bunk to me!

"Californy or bust"? Was that your slogan? It's just like I told you—a girl just naturally talked more than a boy, sometimes, so they're not expected to write as much. Don't you fret, though, 'cause I don't care how much or how little you write I'm not going to be the one to criticize—unless I'm kidding you and I believe you've found that out. I'll like what you write (I guess). But don't be so stubborn about hating to give in. I've had to and you can, too. 

I'm so glad you said one thing in your letter—it's something I've always said: A boy and girl (man or woman) can always have a lot more fun if they don't start getting serious. If anything spoils my friendship for and with anyone any quicker, I don't know what it is. But, listen, you are not a passing fancy, pinch-hitter or any of that stuff—and you are not playing "second fiddle" to anyone. So just you don't worry about any of that—not that you'd be worrying anyway, but you wanted to know so I'm telling you. I think maybe sometimes I talk and say things too blunt or harsh but I certainly don't believe in "beating around the bush" about anything, either. 

Let's see. It's just three more weeks until I go to school. I'd be awfully glad if I could help you with your problem of having something to say and no place to put it. Maybe a "heart-to-heart" talk would help and I'm sure it could be arranged. Would you like to come down here at home? If so, let me know. I will be in Whitesburg one more time before I leave, payday. I have to take Grethel to the dentist then. I think we'll leave Sunday morning Feb. 2—well, that's Ground Hog Day, too! 

Our neighborhood is increasing in population. Another little mean boy was dropped in our midst—just weighed 11 lbs. Mama and the girls went to see it this evening. The used-to-be baby is 9 years old. Mama asked him if he liked the baby. He said, "They needn't think I'm going to miss any school to tend to the little old nasty thing." But he was just dying to tend to it then. 

Dad went to see his little granddaughter Friday. I think he almost brought her home with him. I'm mad at my brother-in-law so I'll have to wait until they come down. I don't think I told you about me and my dear brother-in-law falling out, but I won't bore you with details. It's all over, now, I hope. I hope you don't have trouble with your in-laws. Why am I telling you this? 

Tomorrow's the 13th and "blue Monday" at that! Wow! Guess I'll paddle the whole bunch—for fun. The clock says, "Tick, tock:" I say, "Ho, hum, and

Love,

Mabel."

P.S. Did I end right this time? Let me know if I can be of any help in your arrangements.

Written along the side of this page: I didn't make 8 this time but I'm getting sleepy. 

FEBRUARY

Eastern Kentucky Teachers College

Postmark February 3, 1941

From: Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Richmond, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, Kings Creek, Kentucky

Eastern, Feb. 3, 1941

Dear Earl, 

I hope you haven't fretted and worried too much for not getting a letter sooner but be patient and I'll explain. 

I didn't get your letter until Thursday evening. I was so busy getting ready to come to school that I just didn't have time to write. I had to fix my record book and pack and everything! You'll excuse me this time, won't you? Please!

We got here about 1:30 P.M. yesterday. Jessie and Anna came as far as Ravenna with us. I'm glad they were along because we had someone to talk to. Bernice won't talk when we are by ourselves. Jessie and I blabbed so much no one else could get a word in. 

We've been trying to get registered today. Well, I'm through but Bernice isn't. Poor girl—still standing in line. I got so tired! I'm taking English 314 (the Novel), Eng. 219 (Survey of Literature), Education 354 (Reading in Elementary Schools), Rural Sociology, Nature Study and Beginning Typing—17 hours. All of my subjects sound very interesting. I don't know how they'll end. I dread one thing—3 Saturday classes! 

Bernice and I room on the 3rd floor. We'll sure get plenty of exercise but I'll take all I can get after being cooped up in a schoolhouse for 7 months. 

Tuesday Evening, Feb. 4, 1941

I ran out of ink yesterday and didn't get any until today so now I'll continue. 

Earl, don't you wish you were through teaching and taking your vacation like me? Boy, if you only knew what my vacation was like you'd say, "Thanks!"

I wonder how Jessie is getting along. I think I'll write her sometime this week and find out. I bet Joe doesn't have to wonder, do you? As we came down on the train Sunday Jessie told Anna the reason she was coming to school was because they wouldn't let her see Joe. Anna just grinned. 

Did you take cold after standing out in the rain for 2 hours last Sunday? I hope not. If you hadn't wanted to catch the train it would have been on time. Maybe it won't happen again—standing in the rain waiting for the train. 

I'm glad you enjoyed your visit at home, but I'm afraid I wasn't very entertaining. I thought you were going to stay all day Sunday and I had a lot of things planned. But it's all passed now so we won't worry. 

You said if I kept on being good to you that you were going to forget to not be serious but you were company and a hostess is supposed to be good to her company, isn't she? Especially when you're company! 

I would like to see you cooking and washing dishes. I just know you're a dandy hand. But don't get disgusted—practice makes perfect! Don't you hope that a good-looking girl will be your folks' hired girl? 

I do hope your mother is well now. Is she better? Maybe your cooking is what she needs. (Don't get mad at me for talking so crazy. I'm not making fun, honest!)

Jessie told me about you getting sick at school. Was it anything serious? You'd better take real good care of yourself or I'll spank you. I am glad that you stopped smoking because I don't think it is a good habit for your health. I just want to ask one thing of you and that is: Don't say I made you quit smoking. I don't think you will but most boys would. 

I have one of your songs typed out (or do you want it written?), "Southern Moon," and I'll have to wait until the other songs come before I can copy "Empty Saddles." I intended to give them to you the other day but I forgot it. And don't say you "croak" songs because I think you sing very nicely. When you learn the songs I want you to sing them to me. I'll be a good listener. I'll just sit so still and I'll not even say a word—just listen!

I thought "Li'l Abner - feel and all" was sorta cute. 

Earl, if I send you a picture are you sure you will be real good? You won't grumble if you have to do a woman's work? Well, if you promise then I'll send you one. Now, don't do anything rash or I'll take it back. You said any kind, didn't you? By the way the girl that took the picture is married now. Seems like all of me gal friends is getting married here lately. 

Don't you think we ought to swap even in the picture business? Think it over. 

I don't remember what the questions were in my last letter. If you think of them you can answer them sometime. 

I've only had one typing class but I think it's going to be lots of fun. Bernice and I sit side by side. I'm going to try to beat her. She usually makes better grades than I do. 

Opal (my married sis) and Curtis came down home last Friday evening and brought Clara Fay before we left. I'm still not in a good humor with Curt but I got along fine with Clara Fay. She's the sweetest little baby. I guess she takes that after her Aunt M.D. Humph! Sounds like someone is patting herself on the back! She must be awfully stuck up. 

I took my glasses down to Dr. Dunn's (eye specialist) this evening and I got the surprise of my life. I was sure I'd have to pay at least $6.00 and wait about 2 weeks for them. Instead I only have to pay $2.50 and get them Thursday evening! Isn't that service for you? I'm so tickled. 

Wouldn't you think we were pretty good hands to spend money? Only $160.00 and just now getting a good start!

Earl, I'm afraid all of my objections wouldn't do much good in reference to some words you use. Seems as if I've heard that word "honey" some place before. If you think you can't get by without using one once in a while, why, I suppose it's alright, but you're getting a great privilege. 

My throat is getting so sore all of a sudden. It still is sore from the last cold I had about two weeks ago. 

Something funny happened today in Sociology class. Mr. Ferrell asked how many in class had taught. There were only 4 out of 23. I was one and when I held up my hand everyone looked at me so funny. Even Mr. Ferrell looked so surprised. One woman had taught about 30 years, one 4 years, one 5 years and my measly 2 years. I just know I'm going to be called on it class a lot so I guess I'd better brush up on my knowledge (?). I don't like to talk in class very well but naturally they're going to expect a teacher to know a little something. Hope I don't disappoint them too bad. 

I bet I've done something you can't do. I've written 9 pages! I'm getting sleepy now so I'll stop and dream some and let you write awhile. Is that O.K.? I'll try to write some next time now that I'm settled. My address is on the envelope. We don't have boxes yet. 

Love,

Mabel.

Postmark February 10, 1941

From: Earl Boggs

To: Miss Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Richmond, Kentucky

Postmark February 24, 1941

From: Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, Kings Creek, Kentucky

Richmond, Kentucky, Feb. 23, 1941

Dear Earl,

I'm sorry I haven't written sooner but I just haven't had time. I'd like to make a proposition. Since I'm so busy all through the week would you mind if I wrote you on Sunday evenings? That's about the only spare time I really have. What do you say that starting today we do business this way from now on? O.K.? 

What have you been doing since school has closed? Done any more plowing? I'd like to watch you plowing until you hit a root or something then I guess I ought to away out of earshot. You may not believe it but I can plow, too! Of course it's on a small scale though. 

We got a letter from home Friday. Mama said she wanted to start gardening as soon as she could. It seems so funny to talk about gardening and it still so cold. It's been so long since I've been home in the springtime. I wouldn't know how to act. 

Did the wind blow very hard up, or down, your way last week? I thought we were going to get blown away. We got part of a cyclone that went through part of the country. Believe me, I don't want to see a cyclone in full force! 

Have you seen "Gone With The Wind"? Bernice and I went to see it Thursday evening. It was awfully good. I haven't read the book. 

I went to the show again this evening. A very good friend of mine came over from Berea this afternoon. There were two shows, "The Mad Doctor" and "Buck Privates." I declare I laughed at "Buck Privates" (an army—draft corps picture) until I cried. Both shows were real good. The Andrews Sisters sang in "Buck Privates."

When I got your letter and saw the postmark, "Defeated Creek," I thought, "Well, my goodness, he's sure doing some rambling," but when I read it I found out why it was mailed there. I'm glad your dad got the mail route. 

Dad is trying to get a rural delivery mail route from Ulvah to Blackey then to Carcassonne. I hope he can. He's working on it now. 

I got a letter from Jessie Thursday. She says they're working her to death. Poor girl! I can sympathize with her. 

Gee! It's just 15 minutes until time to turn out the lights. Guess I'd better hurry. 

That girl is not going to forget you so please don't disappoint her! 

Let's wait until I come home before I answer that question of yours. I just can't get it put down right on paper. 

Yes, we get a Spring Vacation this year. It will be in April about the 16th. The Spelling Bee is going to be held the 17th during K.E.A. so I imagine that's when we get off. I don't know whether we're coming home or not. It's almost too far away—just 6 weeks—to plan much. I thought I might go to K.E.A. I have an uncle in Louisville that I might visit. I have another uncle in Lincoln Co. I visited him last year. Then Ray lives in Mason Co. It would be almost—it would be cheaper—to go see some of them than it would be to come home. Of course, as you say, 4 months is an awfully long time. We'll have to do some planning. 

2/24/41

Monday morn.

Last night I was in the biggest way of writing when one of the girls on this floor came in and stayed until it was time to turn out the lights. I will try to finish now. 

Earl, I'll send you the songs but I'm afraid I can't seal the song (tune) in. Maybe you'll remember it when you get the words. I hope you do. 

I've been trying to get all of my songs straightened out. Just when I don't know. I have 446 ready to copy already straightened out. 

Well, this letter isn't as long as some others I have written but I have a nice little test in Nature Study this morning so if I'm going to make an A I'd better get busy and study some. 

This makes the second time and I'll say it again—please don't get mad because I didn't write sooner!

Love,

Mabel.

P.S. I'd be tickled if I thought you were thinking, too! I won't have to think by myself. Sweetheart, think all you want to. I will, too.  

Back of envelope, written in pencil from Earl's father or mother: All well at home

MARCH

Postmark March 1, 1941

From: Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Virginia

Eastern, February 28, 1941

Dear Earl,

Gee! Thanks for those nice, sweet letters but please don't stop writing. Of course, since you have a job now you won't have so much spare time but write as often as you want to. Nothing would please me any better. I've had more fun this week just getting your letters and reading them. I am glad that I know your address so I can return your favors. I can't do as well as you did but I can at least try.  

Earl, I'm awfully glad you got a job. Somehow, I just felt that you would get one. What kind of work do you do? Do you like it? Did Joe get a job? I hope he did. 

When I was up at your home Clyde was telling your mother that you could get some kind of a job—probably truck-driving. Your mother said, "No, I hope he can't get a job if that's all there is." I thought that sounded so funny—just like you were a little boy and she was afraid you might get hurt. That shows that our mothers are always looking out for us and anxious about us whether we realize it or not. I suppose that's one thing mothers are for. 

Are you having any cold weather and snow in your part of the country? I don't know which direction it is—at least it isn't west! It's so cold here. The wind is blowing and the snow is just a-flying everywhere. This is the coldest place here anyway. 

I've had sort of a holiday this afternoon. I only have one class in the afternoon but because of the K.I.A.C. basketball tournament being held here now the 3 o'clock classes were changed to 10:00 this morning. Therefore I've been free from classes this afternoon. Eastern is playing Murray now. I don't know who'll be winner, but I hope we are. I wouldn't mind going to see a game or two but it costs 75¢—$1.75 for season tickets—and that's more than I'm going to spend for that! 

I wrote Opal, my married sister, a letter and mailed it while ago. I thought that being I was downstairs I might as well tend to all of my business at one time. So Bernice wanted me to mail her watch. She wanted it insured. The boy in the college post office said, "You'll have to insure it down town." Too cold to go down there! I had to go to the business office and pay them some. The girl said, "Sorry, but we're closed now." The office wasn't supposed to be closed until 3:00 and it was only 2:30 then. I sorta got mad—couldn't help it. I think I"ll just let them wait awhile for their money; they should have taken it when I offered it to them! 

Bernice is in the bed asleep. I got so sleepy while ago that I had to get up and move about to wake up. Everytime I go to sleep in the daytime I feel so bad. I went to sleep yesterday evening and I just wish I hadn't. 

Did you ever read Moby Dick by Herman Melville? I'm reading it now and I almost hate it. I told Mr. Grise, my English teacher, that it was so hard to read. He said, "I know it. You'll just have to do the best you can with it." I have to make an oral report on it Monday. We're having a test in The Novel, this English class, sometime next week. I had a test in Rural Sociology Tuesday and, law me! What a test! I passed but I didn't do so well. A freshman girl on this floor is taking it, too. She comes in so much and wants to study but starts talking. I never could study with anyone else! I"ll bet you I make twice as good a grade next test as I did this one if I have to lock my door. I had a real easy test in Nature Study last week. I think I missed 3 out of 65. We don't have any grades yet. 

We're studying about snakes and lizards now in Nature Study. There are pictures of snakes in my book and I'm so scared of them I'm afraid to turn the pages for fear they'll come to life. I'm not joking either. I'm "fraider" of snakes than anything else I know of. We'd better not have to catch any! Someone will have to catch me. 

I wrote you a letter Sunday and mailed it Monday. I sent it to Kings Creek because I didn't know you were leaving. I guess they'll forward it to you. 

Bernice just now turned on the radio and the Eastern-Murray basketball game is being broadcast! It sounds very interesting. I don't know how the score stands. They have just given the score 21-8 in favor of Murray—now 23-8. Doesn't sounds so good. It's supper-time but I hate to leave the game. 

I did go to supper and am back. The game is still going; the score is 57-31 in favor of Murray; 5 minutes, 45 seconds to go. I'll wait until the game is over then I'll finish. Score 59-39, 60-39, 60-40, 62-40, 64-40. Now the game is over and it looks as if we're losers. Too bad!

I'll put all of your letters together and see if there are any questions to answer. 

I wish I could help you with "Southern Moon" but I don't see how I can. I"ll sing it all I can and maybe it'll reach you someway. I'm sure those ladies did as good as I could have done. 

Talking about using "I's" in a letter I think that's one of my faults. But when you write use all the "I's" you want to and need to because I want to hear all I can about that "I" person! 

A certain passage in one of your letters sounds like poetry—remember something about a "June rose"? Incidentally the rose is my favorite flower. Don't expect too much along that line but I'll do my best. 

Again I'm saying just think all you want to. I'm doing the same. I'd love for you to think of me—I'd be highly complimented. 

Do you think your letters would ever grow boresome to me? Not on your sweet life! I almost wear them out reading them so much. That's the truth! 

Say, what was that about someone getting their "bacon a little cheaper than usual"? What does that mean? 

You won't have to do much touching up for me to think you're handsome—I already think that. And I do have an awfully good opinion of you, but don't let that discourage you from sending your picture. Are you still going to be a hill-billy or do you want to be something else now? Whatever you are or want to be I'll be happy. 

Don't you think I've written enough to answer all of your letters? I think it's about time for me to stop writing and get busy doing something else. 

I hope I didn't wait too long. 

Love,

Mabel.

P.S. You know what? I have a first cousin living in Norton. I don't suppose she lives in Norton, I think it's on a rural route. Her husband works in the mines. She's only 18 but she seems awfully happy!

Postmark March 3, 1941

From: Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Virginia

Richmond, Kentucky

March 2, 1941

Dear Earl,

I just took the funniest notion all of a sudden—and that notion was maybe I'd write you a letter, so I will. Seems like I'd just like to sit down and have a little chat with you and this is the best way I can think of to do it. Do you mind? 

This is Sunday evening and it's so nice and warm outside. This is March, too, but there's not much wind a-stirring. They say that if "March comes in like a lamb, it'll go out like a lion."

I just had to crawl up out of bed and go see my airplane that just went over. It passes about this time every Sunday, around 3:30. 

You'll probably notice that I'm in bed. When we came back from dinner I didn't like the looks of our room so I got busy and cleaned it up. I made up my bed, (Bernice is in hers), straightened up the table and dresser, and swept the floor. I ironed yesterday so I put the things away. Then I got in bed. I'm not tearing it up—I'm just sitting on top of it. 

It's getting cloudy—looks like it's going to rain. I read in the paper the other day that this part of the country would probably have a drought this year—the worst one in a long time. Didn't sound so good to me. 

Murray won the state basketball tournament last night. Requa Kincer wanted to go so bad that I thought she was going to cry. I wanted to go but I knew I couldn't so I didn't worry about it. 

I got so mad today in the cafeteria. When the girl totaled up my dinner it cost 29¢. I gave my mealbook to another girl and she took out 45¢! I thought at the time that she was taking out more than 29¢ but I didn't say anything. When I sat down Bernice said, "How much did she take out of your mealbook?" I counted and 45¢ was gone. So I politely marched back and told the girl what she'd done. She said, "I don't remember but I'll put it back." But my dinner didn't do me any good. When I get mad I get nervous—that's why I try to avoid getting mad, but I am not paying for my meal and someone else's, too. From now on I'm counting every penny that goes out of my book! 

I bet you think, "Gee! She's awfully easy to get mad," because in the last two or three letters something has happened that doesn't "set" just right with me. But I think I have been justified each time. Maybe that's a selfish though, but that's what I think. 

Bernice and I are planning to do some visiting as soon as we get our excuses from home. We are planning to go to Uncle Dewey Fields and our baby aunt, Leona F. Watts in Lincoln Co. Uncle Dewey is Ray's oldest brother and Aunt Leona is his baby sister. It will seem almost like going home because Aunt Leo used to live with us and we've been at Uncle Dewey's so much. 

Bernice and I had Grandpa and Grandma Fields' (Mama's father and mother) picture enlarged. They're both dead. We're sending and picture to Mama tomorrow. Tuesday would have been Grandma's birthday. The picture is just like them. 

By the way, "pictures" reminds me of something! Does it make you think of anything?

I didn't intend to write much but look what I went and did! 

Orrin Tucker and "Wee" Bonnie Baker are on the radio now with their musical, rhythmical band. Making me wiggle my toes to keep time. 

So long, pal. (I'll bet you don't like that, do you? I can read your mind just like that!)

I could say something else better but I won't now!

Love,

Mabel

P.S. What's the different between daydreaming and thinking?

 

The old photo of Grandpa George and Grandma Rebexy Belle Fields

Postmark March 4, 1941

From: Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Va.

To: Miss Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky. 

Monday Night

Dearest Mabel,

If I hadn't got a letter from you today I guess I would have committed side-ways. I really couldn't have waited much longer. I was getting desperate. If you don't believe that I had another letter ready to mail to you today just to prove that you are awfully important to me. 

I didn't mail it though. The Post Office was closed this morning until after work time and I didn't have any stamps. When I started to mail it at noon I had lost it. Then when I came home I found a much more important one from you, so I decided to wait until tonight to answer it. I found the letter though at the plant where I had been working. When I run out of words I'll copy some of it. 

Don't kid me about my poetry. I never write any but it's all right to dream a little once in a while, isn't it? It's easy to feel poetic when I think about you. I don't remember what I said about the "June rose" but what did you mean when you said "don't expect too much along that line but I'll do my best."

It's sweet of you to take an interest in my work, but I should expect that sort of thing from you. That's one of the many reasons why I like you. Maybe that's a mild term for it. 

I'm beginning to like my work a lot. It's pretty hard especially at times when we're unloading refrigerator cars but a lot of it is easy too. I wasn't expecting a white collar job to start with anyway. It would be hard to tell you what kind of work I do because I do a little bit of every kind. This plant is just a distributing center for Armour's products so nothing is made here. I help care for the plant, keep it clean, keep everything in order and in its place and help fill orders for shipping. Mostly now I'm just trying to get acquainted with everything and to learn something of the things they handle here so that I can do some work later on. I think the hard work will be good for me. I haven't worked enough lately. 

Joe didn't get a job and went home Thursday. He's coming back later. We were going to go somewhere else if I hadn't found a job here, but he didn't want to go on by himself. 

Mother does think I'm a kid yet. But she respects my judgment in picking the right kind of girl. She thinks an awful lot of you. 

Do you really read my letters a lot? Over and over I mean. I know you must read a lot because I write so many. I thought no one ever did that but me. And I didn't always do that—not until I got the first letter from you. 

I haven't found out the price of bacon yet so I can't tell you yet how much cheaper it will be. I'm going to find out though then I'll tell you. I meant tell you. I don't care about writing that. 

You think I'm already (handsome!) and you have an awfully good opinion of me. Is that all? Opinions aren't much. 

That decision about the hillbilly is to be left entirely to you, sweetheart. I think I'd be a mouse if you wanted me that way. No, I'm sure I would. Now what do you mean by this? "Whatever you are or want to be I'll be happy."

To answer a question. I don't think you've written enough, but if your letters were ten times as long they still wouldn't be long enough for me. 

Are you letting Bernice beat you making grades? I like Bernice but I like you better so naturally I'm pulling for you. Besides it wouldn't do to be beaten by a younger sister. But I just can't think of you as being the oldest of the family. You'd fit better as the baby, a very sweet baby, one that everybody likes. However I don't like to share you too much. Am I selfish?

I'm sorry about Eastern being out in the tournament but I wasn't happy about Kentucky losing to Tennessee in the SEC either. I sort of have a feeling for Kentucky. 

It looks as if I'm going to develop into a house-keeper yet. My sister-in-law just left to finish teaching a school back in the country somewhere around here (I don't know the name of the place) and Clyde and I have to look after ourselves. I'm sort of doubtful of the result. Do you suppose I'm capable of looking after myself? Doing a good job of it I mean. 

Don't wait to write. As Ben Franklin said "Don't put till tomorrow what you can do tonight." Besides a day is an awful long time. 

Love 

Earl. 

Postmark March 6, 1941

From: Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Va.

To: Miss Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky. 

Wednesday Afternoon

Dearest Mabel, 

Maybe I oughtn't to write you now. I'm not in a gentle mood. I sorta feel mean—the way a person feels when he wants to do something he shouldn't. I think the trouble is that I have nothing to do. I'm not working this afternoon. We're only allowed to work forty hours a week so I have time off once in a while. When I'm not working I don't do anything but think. I don't know anybody here and I don't know that I'd be interested even if I did know anyone. Thinking is all right and I like to think about you but it doesn't bring you any closer to me. That's why I'm in a nasty mood. 

I got two letters at once from you yesterday the one you wrote Sunday and the one you wrote to Kings Creek. I wish you'd take those funny notions oftener. You know you couldn't write too often for me. 

It's amazing how you do read my mind. I wonder if you can read it concerning a few other little matters I know about. I wish you'd say that "something else better" next time. Try it and then read my mind. You must have had a sudden notion to say that "so long, Pal." I keep thinking about that. It bothers me. 

If you're going to do all that visiting to Aunt's and Uncle's no one else is going to see you for months. Sometimes I think I'm awfully jealous or maybe just plain foolish. I just can't bear the idea of sharing your interest with anyone else. The possessive way you said "my" plans. I couldn't even stand that. And by the way who was that "very dear friend" from Berea. Was it male or female? 

I guess I ought to answer a few of your questions. I try to keep my record straight that way. 

1) Yes, I saw "Gone With the Wind" last year. It was an awfully good picture. You appreciate it more though if you've read the book first. 

2) The only difference that I see between thinking and daydreaming is that thinking might get you somewhere but daydreaming won't. Thinkin' about changing to daydreaming?

3) I don't see another one to answer but I already had my number down. 

I haven't been very prompt about that picture, have I? I told you I didn't have a picture so I wrote to Gladys, my sister, to send me one she had. I thought I could get one quicker that way, but she hasn't sent it yet. I guess she sent it to Kings Creek. She thought I was at home. If there was a studio in town I'd have one made right now but there isn't one here. I'll get one though if I have to draw it myself. 

I liked a part of that letter you sent to Kings Creek. I don't remember that you ever called me sweetheart before but don't let it be the last time if you meant it. And I want to believe you did. 

I was awfully pleased to get the songs. I got the lady downstairs to play "Southern Moon" for me last night. I've about got the tune now. 

If you do get to come home don't forget that I want to know about it. 

I've written my worries away so it's time for me to stop. I think I write you everything I think about, even the way I feel. Maybe you don't understand, honey, but it helps me a lot. 

We'll leave that question if you wish until we can talk about it but don't forget it or I'll be forced to remind you of it. 

Love

Earl

P.S. Now how do you think I could tell you were in bed when you wrote that last letter. I wasn't there. 

P.P.S. Don't you dare wait till Sunday to answer. 

Postmark March 8, 1941

From: Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Virginia

Richmond, Kentucky

March 5, 1941

Wednesday Night

Dear Earl,

Boy, what a thrilling episode I've just listened to! A radio program of "How Did You Meet?" Married people write in and tell how they met, getting paid for the best stories; these stories are dramatized and they're very interesting—W.L.W., 7:15 P.M. By the way, how did we meet?

You asked for it, didn't you, Ben Franklin? I won't put off writing this letter until tomorrow just to fool you. Bet you didn't think I'd do it, did you? (Notice the "baby talk"? Bernice said something and I unconsciously wrote the wrong word.)

Honey chile, I wasn't kidding you about your poetry—I meant what I said. Here's what you said that sounded like poetry about the "June Rose": "I want you to be as fresh and lovely as a June rose when you come home." I simply said, "Don't expect too much along that line but I'll do my best." Do you have everything straightened out now?

I'm glad you like your new job and I'm sure you'll get along just fine with everything. It'll be a new experience that'll be worth something to you. 

Are you sure your mother made her mind up about me without the influence of someone else—you, for instance? I'm glad I'm in her favor and I'll try to not disappoint her. 

Do I read your letters a lot? I said I did, didn't I? When I first get one I read it real hurriedly—just can't slow down; then, for fear I've overlooked something importanter than anything else, I read it again, then I read it again real slow and try to concentrate, then — — — — — ! Sure, I read your letters—some. 

You said you wanted me to have a good opinion of you then you turn around and say opinions aren't much. How's a feller ever to know what to do, I'd like to know? If I didn't have a good opinion of you, you wouldn't be getting this letter from me! Maybe a good opinion isn't all I have and think of you! I didn't say that was all, did it? 

No, I don't want you to be a mouse! I want you to be just what you are—a very nice, sweet you. I mean it! 

"Whatever you are or want to be I'll be happy." Be a hillbilly, city slicker (just so you don't get stuck up!). Anything honorable—I'll be happy. 

My goodness, you're awfully hard to please. Here I try my best to write the best I can and you say it isn't enough. Whew! What more could you want, my dear child? I guess I'll just write until I can't write anymore, then you'll have to do the writing. Guess I'll get even with you that way. 

I'm getting along O.K. with my school work. I'm making better in Nature Study than anything else. There's nothing to it. We got our test papers back Monday. I got 32 out of 35—only 3 above me. 

I had a test in The Novel this morning. It wasn't easy, nor was it hard. Just medium. I don't know how I stand in Typing. I'm getting along O.K. I have a lot of fun in class just pecking away. 

I'm supposed to make a book-report on Moby Dick in the morning. Mr. Grise just keeps putting it off. I don't know whether Bernice is beating me or not. We're about even in typing. She keeps complaining how hard her classes are. She usually makes better grades than I do because she studies more. But she hasn't studied any since we've been here. She goes to bed about 7:30 every night. She's been asleep for about an hour now. 

One of the girls here in Hall just brought Bernice and me an invitation to a party down at the Baptist Church Friday night. It's in the shape of a barrel saying, "A Barrel O' Fun For Everyone." 

My room's getting cold. Have to let the window down and turn on the heat. 

Monday night we had the nicest rain! It began thundering and lightning and I began to get scared. Lightning scares me. When it thundered I felt so happy because I knew that it was a pretty good sign of spring. Then I happened to think, "When it thunders it wakes up the snakes!" Shivers! But when it rains I could day-dream forever. When I go to sleep when it's raining I sleep sounder than a bear in a holler log. 

I bet when Dorsey (is that they way she spells her name?) comes back she'll never get her house straightened up! That is, if you and Clyde are like Dad. Dad's a real good cook but he won't wash dishes. No, I'll take that back about you and Clyde. I guess boys can take as good care of a house and themselves as girls can. Ray is the only boy I know that's kept house and he isn't much, unless he's improved since he's been married. I imagine a little housekeeping will be good for you two, but I wouldn't want to have to take over after you got through. Wouldn't you like to throw something at me right now? Go ahead—I'll dodge! 

Bernice and I are planning to visit our folks in Lincoln County next week-end, March 15 (that's Ray's birthday—he'll be 24). We're supposed to get some excuses from home. We haven't heard from home in almost two weeks. We got a letter from Opal Monday, though. 

It's almost 10:00 so if I'm going to make any "A's" any way besides writing them I'd better get busy. One hour until bedtime. 

Love, 

Mabel

 

Postmark March 8, 1941

From: Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Va.

To: Miss Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky. 

Friday Night

Dearest Mabel,

You surprised old "Ben" all right but you didn't make him mad. You just made him so happy. But to come right back at you with the same old medicine bottle.

I'm going to answer that letter tonight although I have what might be considered a legitimate excuse. I had to work tonight until 12:30. I've just now come in. It's about 1:00 now. 

I'm ashamed of this letter because I'm not going to write much. Actually I didn't start out to write much. This is just a preview of the real picture. I mean I'll write you a long, long letter Sunday when I have plenty of time so that I can make it at least readable. 

I have no faults with your last letter. It was sweet, and if I never said this before, you are too and you are even if I did say it before. 

Love

Earl

P.S. If I should call you up by long distance sometime how could I get you? Do you have any kind of a phone number?

Postmark March 10, 1941

From: Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Va.

To: Miss Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Kentucky

Sunday Night

Dearest Mabel, 

I told you I'd write you Sunday afternoon didn't I? Well I didn't do that but it will get there just about as early. I went to see a picture, "The Strawberry Blonde," starting James Cagney and Olivia De Havilland, just after dinner today, and when I came back I found I had to work. I've just now got in (it's about 11:00) and started to write you. 

If you don't believe I'm faithful just notice that I always write you no matter what the time or circumstances. Dorsey and Clyde laugh at me sometimes but I don't mind that in the least. If you laughed at me though, that would be vastly different. By the way, you weren't laughing at me the other day when you said you had so much fun reading my letters? You know, when I was writing so many. 

I've just been thinking maybe you're writing to me tonight too. I think I'll start trying to send my messages to you by thought. It would be much simpler that way. I think about you. You understand what I'm thinking then you think back. Nice isn't it? I almost had a conversation started. 

But maybe I think too much. I'm always thinking about you. When I go to bed, when I get out of bed, when I eat, when I work, when I sleep, when I see a pretty girl I think of Mabel. Do you want me to stop? Then I won't. 

Do you think I should write to WLW and tell them how we met? Are we eligible? I remember all the details. The thing that makes me mad is the fact that we didn't meet earlier. I wish I had known you all my life. I think I would have profited by it. It wouldn't be possible to know you very long without gaining something from it. 

But I'm not going to grumble much. I know you now and I'm going to keep on knowing you as long as you'll allow me. It is a privilege. 

You make me feel better, decidedly. At last, you have more than a good opinion of me. You do not say what but I like to think about it. It's a lovely thought. 

That idea of yours about "Writing and writing until you can't write any more" to get even with me reminds me of the rabbit that told Mr. Man not to throw him in the briars. That's the way I want you to get even with me. But I don't want you to get to where you don't write any more. I want you to just keep on writing and writing. 

I don't mean to be so hard to please. I'm sorry, sweetheart. But if I didn't care for you I wouldn't ask anything. I don't suppose I'd even be interested enough to write you. You said you wouldn't be writing me if you didn't have a good opinion of me. Honey, I'd write you no matter what sort of an opinion I had. But I'll never have otherwise than a good opinion of you. I'm sure of that. I just wanted you to know that my feeling toward you is not based on opinion. 

I get so impatient sometimes to see you. Letters seem so meaningless when I want to look at you, to hold you, to talk to you. Yet I know that I couldn't bear to stop writing you or have you stop writing me. 

If you talk any more about my housekeeping I will throw something at you. Smack! Know what I threw? You better not dodge. 

This housekeeping idea may not be so bad after all. You may want me to help you sometime, but I won't. I'll just sit back and read the paper. Now you throw something and I'll dodge. 

Write early,

Love

Earl.

P.S. I think you're sweet!

Postmark March 12, 1941

From: Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Va.

To: Miss Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Kentucky

Wednesday Morning

Dearest Mabel,

It's just now 9:30 in the morning and I've been housecleaning from seven until now. Either I'm awfully slow or I do an extra good job. I think it is the first. 

I'm not working this morning and I sure need to rest. I worked twelve hours yesterday. Started at 7:00 A.M. and quit at 8:00 P.M. With an hour out at noon. I've about got my time in for this week so I won't have to do much the latter part of it. 

Gee! I was tickled to get a letter from you last night. I came in all tired out and there was the letter. It was like the smell of roses in the winter time. 

I dreamed of you the other night. I dreamed you came to see me. In what? Guess! An airplane. You were the pilot too. That's what that aviatrix talk of yours is causing. If time doesn't move a little faster I'm coming to see you in one. 

Don't you ever be afraid that I won't read any letters you write me, sweet. That ought to be the least of your worries. 

I'm in a happy mood after getting your letter last night. It was such a sweet letter. Sure moods are catching—from me to you and from you to me. But it isn't queer. It's the way it should be. 

Child you sure must hate me, offering such a suggestion for a way to spend my leisure time. I took two correspondence courses one time and I don't want any more. But it will sure take up your leisure time. Don't you take any correspondence course while I'm around. I want some of that leisure time if it pleases you. 

You know you had me worried for a bit last night. I misread your letter and I thought you said "find somebody you would like." I thought—"if she wants me to find somebody I like she doesn't care much for me." I found you said hobby. 

I have a hobby—birds and nature study, but I don't get much chance to practice it here. 

Honey, don't be so afraid of making me mad. I like to be dictated to—from you. I feel much happier in doing what you want me to than in doing what I want to. 

You're a very good mind reader. Most always correct. It ought to be very simple to read my mind. It's a very simple mind. 

I like you when you're philosophical. To tell the truth I haven't found you in any mood yet that I didn't like you. But you couldn't be scatterbrain even if you tried. It takes a shallow mind to make a scatterbrain and that definitely doesn't fit you. 

A compliment for you please. Dorsey said you were one of the most intelligent girls she had ever met. And other people have said it too. Of course I always flush with pride. I've got good judgment. 

O.K. I'll be a pal if the more than a pal part comes first. 

I know just how consoling those three lines from Grethel were. That's exactly the number of lines I've got since I've been here. They sent a letter you wrote to me and on the back of it, "All well at home." I've got two lines since then in a package of clothes. 

I'm sorry I said any thing about your friend from Berea, really sorry. I guess it shows me up pretty cheap. I should know that you'd be fair with me without me asking. I knew I shouldn't have written that after I thought about it but it was too late then. But, honey chile, I'm touchy about you. I can't help it. 

They are both nice, daydreaming and thinking and I won't forget to do quite a bit of both. I couldn't forget. Wonder if you'd tell me some of the things you think or daydream about. I might want to model. 

I don't see why I failed to tell you about Gladys. She's the best sister I've got, I think. We always got along together, the best. She's tall, as tall as Bernice but heavier, dark and dark haired. I suppose her eyes are brown or maybe black. She's an awfully good cook. She specializes in Home Economics, and she reminds me of you a lot. She doesn't look like you but she acts like you. She's going to school at "Cumberland Junior College" now at Williamsburg, Ky. Staying with Goldie and Charlie. 

Did you mean that song to speak for you? I don't think we've ever sung it together but I've often sung it to you. Not orally or in the same worlds, but the sentiment of it. It was my heart singing. 

Honey, I'm not so sure I could come home too if you did either. I'd sure try if I knew you were at home. However, if you aren't planning to come home don't come on my account. I never know ahead when I'll be off. Maybe I can get to come to Richmond sometime. "What are we worrying about!" Isn't it worry enough to be away from you?

Love

Earl

Written on the side of the page: "I'll never forget!" 

Postmark March 14, 1941

From: Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Virginia

Eastern,

Wednesday night,

March 12, 1941

Dear Earl,

If I can get my mind settled long enough and my wits collected I'll try to answer your letter. 

You see, I just got back from Cincinnati about an hour or two ago and I'm tired in mind and body! It seems as if I'm still riding the bus going up and down, up and down. You'll have to take all this in consideration if the letter seems off. And up and down too. 

What kind of working hours do you have, child? First on, then off; this hour, then that! Seems like that would get you off schedule. It won't be like that all the time, will it? 

I saw an advertisement saying that "Strawberry Blonde" was in Cincinnati now and it will be here this week-end. "Tobacco Road" is in Lexington now. The Boone County Jamboree will be here sometime soon. 

I bet Clyde and Dorsey don't have any cause for laughing. Just ask them how and when and under what circumstances they wrote one another. They probably won't even tell. As for me laughing at you, I wouldn't dare for fear you'd laugh at me. No, I wasn't laughing at you when I was reading your letters. I was tickled to hear from you and I liked the things you said. That's what I meant. Everytime I get a letter from you I come out of the post office with my mouth all over my face. I bet people say, "Wonder why she looks so unusually happy all of a sudden?" Ah! If they only knew! And, listen, the more you write the happier I'll be. 

You know what! I was thinking the same thing Sunday night only I wrote earlier than you did. I was in bed thinking when you started writing. We have to have our lights out by 11:00. 

I found something funny in your letter. I don't know whether you meant it to be that way or just overlooked it. You said, "Maybe I tink too much." Were you trying to talk "baby-talk" with your "tink"? But you don't have anything on me—I can think, too (believe it or not!). 'Course when I see a pretty girl I don't think of you but I think just the same. If I flunk anything this semester I'm going to blame you! 

I don't think we're eligible for the "How Did You Meet" program because I believe the married folks are the ones' experiences they want. I'm not too sure. Our meeting probably wouldn't be spectacular enough for them. You never can tell, though. 

Listen, Earl, you're going to have to stop thinking about wanting to see me because you know you can't now. You're just getting impatient over nothing. You don't want to see me any worse than I do you but I know it can't be done so I don't worry about that part—much. (I guess that statement is alright if we're not playing a game of "Truth.") Anyway it is much more pleasanter to think that it won't be so awfully long until maybe we can see each other! I might get to come home Spring Vacation. I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know, though!

Gee! You threw that "something" so quick I didn't have time to dodge! I didn't know what it was all about until it was over with. Yep! I got a pretty good idea of what it was you threw. I'm afraid to throw anything because my aim might not be as good as yours then you'd laugh at me for missing. Anyway I'll try and if you dodge it won't be my fault! Smack! (Tut! Tut! Did I miss?) Well, practice makes perfect. Better luck next time. 

No, I don't want you to help me keep house. You'd just be in my way, so just prop yourself back and read your paper and behave yourself. Thanks. 'Course if I get too much to do you may have to help me, then we can both read the paper. Don't you think that's be better anyway? Nice little schemer, me! 

Have you see the moon tonight? Isn't it beautiful? Makes a person really feel like living. 

All the way to Cincinnati and back today I kept thinking how nice it would be if you were only going with me. 

Gee! It's 11:00! I'd better get the lights off before I get caught. I'll finish in the morning. 

Goodnight, sweetheart. Pleasant dreams!

Thursday afternoon,

1:00 pm

Dear Earl,

I just got your letter before dinner. I didn't get to read it good because Bernice kept saying, "Hurry, hurry!" (and if anything "irks" me more than "hurry, hurry" I don't want to hear it.) Now that I have time I read it again leisurely. Oh, yes, I'm a lady of leisure. 

I was so tired and sleepy that I just couldn't hardly get up this morning. Bernice kept trying to get me up. She said I reminded her of a turtle coming out of its shell. First, I poked my head out, then one foot, then another until I was all out. She didn't know how I felt or she would have had a little sympathy for me. I feel lots better now. 

Our letters always seem to reach each other just when we need a little cheering up. Fate must fix them that way. 

Guess I'd better tell you about the phone connections here before I forget it. There is a phone here in Sullivan Hall.  The number is 9106. You call Sullivan Hall here in Richmond and ask for me. I'll always be here after 7:00 P.M. Maybe I'd better say, I'm always here after 9:00 P.M. Sometimes I go to the library. Honestly, if you'd called without me expecting a call I guess I'd just pass out. I'd probably think someone was calling from home. But if you call maybe I can withstand the shock. 

Didn't I tell you I was likely to do anything? Even if it was flying an airplane? If it was only true - the flying I mean - I'd be pleased. I imagine that's one thing I'll never get to do, be the pilot of an airplane. No use frettin'. 

How was I to know that you liked correspondence lessons so well? You never told me. But just as I said it was a silly suggestion so just forget that it was ever mentioned. I don't want any correspondence work. Bernice says she's going to take 16 hours of it. Heaven help her! I can't.

You know what? I always wondered why I liked my Nature Study class so much and now I know. (Our Nature Study class was the one that went to the zoo yesterday.) At least there's one more thing we both like. I don't know so awfully much about it yet but I'm learning fast. Smart little thing!

Yesterday we went (1st) to the Conservatory where plants are kept from all over the world. It was so damp in the jungle part that my rheumatism began to tell me about it. In one section they have the flowers that we have here only a lot more varieties of each kind. When I first went in there was so much perfume that it almost took my breath. It smelled good but there was so much that it was too strong. We spent about an hour in the Conservatory. 2nd we went to the Zoo about 1:00-2:00 Eastern time. I wrote down the names of all the different things we saw—about 105—then I think I missed some. We first went in the Elephant house. They had 2 hippos (I'm not spelling the words out), a rhino, 2 giraffes, 2 elephants, 2 emu (big birds), some antelope, wart hogs, anteater, kangaroo. I declare I got so tickled once. Claude Harris, one of the boys, was standing in front of one of the elephants. Some girls were feeding the other elephant. The elephant that Claude was in front of wanted something, too. It kept reaching its trunk out. It could almost reach him. All of a sudden it gave a big snort right in Claude's face. He jumped like he was shot and said, "Well, you big so and so!" I just had to laugh at him. I'm still laughing. 

When we went to the Reptile house I was scared to death. I just knew the snakes would be crawling everywhere, but they were all so lifeless. Only one snake was crawling around and it was the timber rattlesnake. He kept licking his tongue and I made a face at him. Bet he's still trembling. It still doesn't seem like I've seen them. They were all in separate glass cages. They just looked like pictures. 

One place of activity was the lion house. They had just fed them. There was only one male lion and he was roaring like everything. I guess he thought we wanted the bone he was gnawing. 

Leo the Lion at the Cincinnati Zoo (courtesy the Ohio History Connection)

I liked the monkeys and the brown bears. One little monkey kept acting like he was kissing another one or trying to tell him something. There were two little baby monkeys. They were the sweetest little things, like little human babies. 

Susie, the gorilla, wouldn't come out of her cage. She is so ill and fierce the keepers can't take her out any more. They have glass in front of her cage. I just got a glimpse of her back when she was in the door of her cave. 

Susie the Gorilla at the Cincinnati Zoo (courtesy the Ohio History Connection)

I took my Kodak to take some pictures but the sun didn't shine so I couldn't get any. When I start teaching this year I want to get a candid camera so I can take any picture at any time. The sun was shining when we left here yesterday morning. When we got to Cincinnati there was no sun. Yesterday evening when we got back into Ky. just out of Covington the sun was shining. Bernice said it shone here all day. See, we have sunshine in Kentucky. 

When I started writing this letter I didn't intend to write very much but since I'm this far there's no use stopping now. I have two letters in one to answer, anyway!

Earl, I don't mean to contradict you but I know good and well you said something that can't be true—I mean I know you don't mean it. You said you felt much happier in doing what I wanted you to do than in doing what you wanted to do. You can't tell me—I know you don't. 

Boy, you don't know me if you think I can't be scatterbrain. I'll show you sometime. 

I'm afraid Dorsey was flattering me and you, too. She must be very quick to form opinions because she didn't see me very much. I mustn't forget my manners so you thank her for me although I don't deserve the compliment. And who's throwing orchids at themselves—"pride" and "judgement"?

Just look at the snow all of a sudden, will you? The air is filled with snowflakes. I'm afraid it's going to be bad until we can go visiting this week-end. 

We had some cookies in the closet and the mice got into them night before last and helped themselves. Little rats! 

Honey chile, did you think I was bawling you out about Andy? I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I was just trying to explain things. But please don't get "touchy" over him. He is, as I said, a friend of mine. You don't have to offer any apologies. I didn't expect any. I didn't mean to be so blunt, or rude in my explanations. 

Here I am about to do something that we both said we were not going to do. You know, when there was a disagreement, or misunderstanding neither one was going to say he was sorry because everything would start over again. 

Earl, there are a million and one things I think about to myself but I'm afraid to think them out loud. They'd seem silly. As it is I'll just go on thinking for a while longer. I be there's not much difference in our thinking, tho'. 

Thank you for the description of Gladys. She sounds very likeable. Maybe we can get acquainted sometime. I didn't know Charlie and Goldie lived at Williamsburg, though. 

I'll have to stop now. I think this is the most I've ever written. I've written smaller than usual. Just a new fancy of mine. 

Love,

Mabel

P.S. I just dare you to laugh 'cause this letter is so big! 

Postmark March 15, 1941

From: Gladys Boggs, Cincinnati, Ohio

To: Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Va.

Friday nite

Dear Earl,

Boy! You're just plain lucky, landing the first job you tried. I'll say it's better than just staying around home. What kind of work is it? Do you like it? 

How is Clyde, and Dorsey and Rodney? I bet you and Clyde have a lot of fun messing around to yourselves. 

School's okay. I'll be going next Saturday, March 22, for a break, I'd sure like to see you if you can come home any way. It won't quite seem like home with you gone. 

I had a letter from home a few days ago. In case you haven't heard soon. Mom's waiting on the store and ____ (unreadable name) does the work fine. I'm so glad everything is all right again. 

Earl about that picture you wanted. I thought I had sent it home but discovered I still had it. Do you want me to send it to you now? I took some pictures today. 

Goldia, Charlie and Donnie are fine. They bought a new Ford. 

Tell Clyde and Dorsey to write me. I'd like to see them. 

Write me soon.

Love,

Gladys

P.S. Wish I had you to help me with my teacher's arithmetic. It's tough. 

P.P.S. Charlie gave you a good send off. It came days before you wrote us. 

Postmark March 16, 1941

From: Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Va.

To: Miss Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Kentucky

Monday Night

Dearest,

I knew I'd get a letter from you today. I can always tell. I've got intuition where you're concerned.

Here I am tired again tonight. I'm always complaining about something. But no matter how tired I am I couldn't go to bed without writing you first. I wouldn't sleep none a tall. 

I wish you could have been home last week end. I had three days off in a row. Got all my time in the first of the week. I just sat around and read and indulged in reminisces. I read Grapes of Wrath for one thing. I'd already seen the picture so I wanted to read the book. Now I want to the see the picture again. That "Tobacco Road" that you were talking about is a picture that I'm going to see sometime. It's something similar to Grapes of Wrath I think.

I had to smile at something you wrote in this letter—where you told me I'd have to stop thinking about wanting to see you. That was a scolding almost. I guess I deserve one all right but, sweetheart, in that case it couldn't do any good. I couldn't help wanting to see you no matter how hard I tried to keep from thinking about it. I can't accept things philosophically. I know that getting impatient won't bring you to me any sooner but I can't help being that way just the same. It's a fault in my make up. 

Mabel dear, if you want to see me as badly as I want to see you I'm satisfied. But if you say that you're saying a lot. 

Don't think you missed when you threw that at me. I didn't dodge. Hit me right in the face. I hope that will be the heaviest thing you'll ever throw at me. But I could stand a lot of that. 

I've been noticing the moon all right but I don't derive much satisfaction from it under the circumstances. It just bothers me. 

Tuesday night

I didn't finish last night because I was getting so sleepy I wasn't going a good job, and you tell Bernice to lay off you when you're tired or I'll get her. I'd like to have her opportunity. I wouldn't show any lack of sympathy for you. I'd be awfully good to you. 

I'm glad you didn't forget the phone number. I'm going to take advantage of it, probably this week sometime. I thought about calling you without first telling you. Then I thought it might scare you and decided not to. I guess it was a good thing I didn't now. I wouldn't have wanted you to have passed out. I don't suppose I could have reached you anyway but I might have. I guess I would have called you though if I'd known the name of the hall where you stayed. 

Sometime we're going to study nature together and I'll teach you all I know about birds. That's my specialty and it's about the only subject that I really know. You can teach me about flowers. When I got to thinking about flowers the names all sound just alike—Mabel. 

I'd like to see some of that Kentucky sunshine you were talking about. Virginia is not overburdened with it. It's snowed practically every other day since I've been here and when the sun does shine it's so cold one can't enjoy it. 

Mabel honey, I don't want to re-contradict you but I know good and well that I did mean what I said. I know that I'm happy doing what you want me to because the moment you want me to do something then I want to do that too. And you can't tell me either. I know I do. 

Honestly, sweetheart, I do mean that whether you believe me or not. 

Mice are not little rats even if they did steal your cookies. I thought you were taking nature study. 

Mabel child, you just think some of those million and one things out loud if you want to be happy. You know that I wouldn't believe anything you said or did could be silly. Maybe you don't realize it but I really believe in you. You're sort of a model for me. But you just keep on thinking about those things until sometime you can tell me about them. I'll bet there isn't much difference in our thinking at that. 

I got a letter from Gladys yesterday the same time I got the letter from you. She's going home the twenty-second of this month but I don't suppose I'll get to see her.

If you find any grease spots on this letter that's just olive oil that I put on my hands to keep them from chapping. I'm getting dish water hands. I'm afraid it will ruin my chances in Hollywood but I don't care if it doesn't ruin my chances with you. 

I don't believe I can go much farther writing something I've already written so the wise thing will be to stop. Sometimes I'm going to catch up with you but until my brain develops a little more I'll just write more often. 

Love

Earl

P.S. I may call you about Saturday night. 

P.P.S. Keep writing those long letters. I like them. 

Postmark March 22, 1941

From: Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Virginia

Richmond, Kentucky

March 22, 1941 

Dear Earl,

I just have three sheets of paper so that's all I'm going to write you tonight. I can hear you say, "Thank goodness!" It is now 10:30 P.M. and I should be studying—my lessons—but here I go at something else. I've got a late light cut so I can stay up as long as I want to. 

The longest week has just passed and I admit that I was sorta wondering. About what? Don't laugh! It had been one whole week—from one Thursday 'till the next—hat I hadn't gotten a letter from you and I didn't know what to think. Now I know how you felt. I tried to say I didn't care and that I wasn't thinking anything about it but that wasn't so nor was it very consoling. I told my diary all about it. But I did get a letter. It wasn't your fault but I don't know why you didn't get my letter sooner. You should have gotten it on Saturday. But let's change the subject. 

Did you know that spring is officially here? For the last two days it has really been here but I'm afraid it isn't really here yet. I wish spring would hurry and really come. I want to start wearing anklets and print dresses where I can really feel comfortable. I certainly don't feel at ease in stockings, skirts and sweaters. Do you like this little poem? It's exactly the way I feel. 

"Gingham-Time"

Oh, my! I'm glad that summers' come.

You want to know the reason?

Because it's warm enough to start

That scrumptious gingham season.

I don't begrudge the movie stars

Their gorgeous gowns, and so forth;

For I prefer to be attired

In gingham, when I go forth.

I never envy queens, who wear

Gemmed crowns upon their tresses,

And costly robes; 'cause I feel best

In simple gingham dresses.

Today was Founder's Day here at Eastern. Eastern is 35 years old today. Chapel was two hours long this morning! Made me miss a test in Nature Study. I was all set to make 100%. Monday I'll just make 200%! Birds being your hobby—the unit we're studying now is about birds so I'll absorb all I can then maybe I won't be so dumb. I do know a little about things like that!

Talking about tests, I had one in Rural Sociology yesterday (Thur.)—wasn't bad; I had one in English Lit. (Tue.) and it was bad. We had three pages of "Hamlet"! Bet I flunked it. I have another test in The Novel next week. 

Bernice and I went down to Uncle Dewey's in Lincoln Co. this week-end. Of course it rained and turned cold. Had a very enjoyable time! Missed our bus Sunday night in Lexington, had to take a taxi—cost $8.00! Wasn't that awful? At home we could have gone the distance—25 miles—for 50 cents! I'm still mad. 

I'm all paid up for the semester here this year. I got enough money from my Scholarship Fund from Montgomery Ward to pay up. Bernice still has hers to pay. 

I think Bernice and I are about to go home for Spring Vacation. We haven't decided yet. I'm longing to see home again. But don't you make a special trip to come then. 

"Tobacco Road" is on here this week-end. I don't know whether I'll go see it or not. 

No, I wasn't scolding you the other day. At least, I didn't mean to. Imagine me scolding you. That isn't what I want to do. Anyway why should you deserve one? You didn't do or say anything worth being scolded about. 

O.K., have it your way—but I'm not convinced. You know—the "happy" business!

Dishpan hands? My, my! That'll be the gossip of the town. Why don't you hire a maid? Can't afford one? Why not read some of those magazine "ads"? They say Ivory Soap is simply wonderful for washing dishes - it is so mild and gentle. Wouldn't I make a good salesman - saleswoman?

I'll tell you what is the best thing I know of to keep your hands from chapping and don't think it's sissy. Get some Jergens lotion. It is really good. There's no messy oiliness because as soon as your hands are chapped just put some lotion on and in an hour they'll be well. I used it all the time so I can recommend it. 

Do you think it takes brains to write a letter? You ought to know better from reading mine—but I'm afraid I'll falling short tonight myself. I'm about to get sleepy. 

I'll write better next time.

Love,

Mabel.

Postmark March 26, 1941

From: Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Va.

To: Miss Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky. 

Monday Night (March 24)

Dearest Mabel,

I only have two sheets of paper so I can't write you any more but I don't like the idea. I know what an empty feeling a short letter leaves. I just got one today—from you. 

Both of us are kicking about one letter a week, I see. But, Mabel, whenever I fail to write you I'll have an awfully good reason. You won't have to wonder. But if you failed to write me I wouldn't attempt to tell myself I didn't care. I couldn't play make believe that well. 

I liked the poem. I almost believe you wrote it. Then too I'd like to see you in gingham. To me a really pretty girl is one in a fresh clean print dress, preferably gingham. Ask Jessie about that sometime. 

I went home this week-end. Worked till ten o'clock Saturday and suddenly got homesick. Rushed to the house and changed clothes. I just barely made the bus—the only one I could get home on. About fifteen minutes after I got home Gladys, Goldia, and Charlie came in. Gladys is going to stay a week. Spring vacation for her. 

I tried to call you while I was in Whitesburg but you were out. I'll call you in the night next time so I'll know you're at home. 

I'm glad you're coming home, but you didn't sound as if you wanted me to come see you then. Maybe I got the wrong idea. I must have. I'm always seeing things that aren't. I won't think that any more. 

I'd like to see some of the things you're telling that diary. Or maybe I wouldn't. You might be telling it the truth about me. I didn't even know you kept a diary. Makes me sorta jealous. You may be telling that diary all sorts of nice things and practically leaving me out. But I'll get even. I'll dream about you tonight and not tell you about it. How do you like that? 

I'm going to have you quarantined if you visit much more. A few more journeys and you'll be bankrupt. You ought to charter a plane when you want to go someplace. It would be cheaper than a taxi and then you could be hostess whenever you pleased. 

Clyde and I went to the picture show tonight. Saw "Western Union" in techni-color. It's taken from one of Zane Grey's novels. It wasn't especially good. 

Well I have that picture at last. Gladys thought she had sent it to me but she had forgotten to put it in the letter. She brought it home with her and gave it to me there. It isn't much of a good one. Sometime I'll get you a better one—if you want one. 

Gladys and I went to a pie-supper Saturday night. We didn't stay long and after we left they had a free-for-all with plenty of excitement. Hate I missed that. Nobody was hurt much. 

I'm at the end of my paper so to bed to dream of you—the next best thing to seeing you. 

Love

Earl

Written along the side of the page: You didn't say you were thinking. I assume.

Postmark March 26, 1941

From: Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Virginia

Richmond, Kentucky

March 25, 1941 (Tuesday)

Dear Earl,

Right in the middle of the night I take a sudden notion to write! (Notice how poetic I am? Merely coincidental.) It is now 11:30 P.M. I've been studying tonight—just for a change. That reminds me of what Bernice said last night. She picked up her Biology book and said, "I believe I can get more out of if if I read it." I said, "Why, how strange!" But she will go to bed before 10:00 every night or know the reason why. 

I went to the Library and studied an hour then came back to my room. I've read my lesson in Nature Study about the birds—"chicken ways" and "The Pigeon," and I'm reading my last novel for my English class—The Old Wives' Tale by Arnold Bennett. It's very interesting. I started reading it in high school but didn't like it. Now I do. There are 612 pages; I've read 234. 

We had a test in Nature Study yesterday. I missed five out of 54. I don't know what my grade will be yet. I'm improving in Sociology—made a C on this test. I'm going to make a B next Tuesday. That's April Fool's Day, too. Hope I don't fool myself. 

Instead of listening to Joe Louis' fight last week we listened to the basketball tournament. Inez from Martin Co. won. One of the girls that rooms across the hall is dating one of the boys on the team. She went to the games and she's still so hoarse she can barely talk above a whisper. She led the yells for Inez. I hate Joe Louis, anyway, so I didn't listen to him. I'd like to tell him what I think of him. I'd have to stop up my ears so I couldn't hear what I was saying, though. 

My fountain pen ain't working right. I dropped it the other night and the point is twisted. It just screeks and screeks (that isn't spelled right, I know, but I forgot how)—makes me jittery. 

Can't guess what Bernice and I have been doing! We've been working a jigsaw puzzle. We finished it after supper. It is the prettiest picture - just an "ideal" home—the kind one dreams about. 

That reminds me: We got a letter from Grethel yesterday. In Home Ec. at S.R.S. all the girls have to write a theme about their "Ideal Home." Grethel wrote one at Xmas—I gave her a few pointers. The best one is printed in the "Yodler" and her "Ideal Home" was chosen. It was good. I just had a feeling that it would be chosen. All I did to it was correct her spelling and grammatical errors, and copy it for her.

To show you how good she is in spelling: "tutch" for "touch."

Yes, indeed, I have a very pleasant memory of the picture show at Whitesburg! How do you think I could forget? And I do remember some of it!  

You made me homesick—talking about burning brush in the spring. It's been three or four years since I have been home in the spring but I have burnt brush—and fought fire, to boot. And, as you say, it really gets in my blood!

"Do I bore you?" You could have saved that much space and ink and fared just as well. I'll let you know it when you bore me! Just keep a talkin', honey-chile, 'cause that's the life I love. 

What are you going to do to me for not writing a Sunday letter? I did think about it but I didn't go into action. If you really want me to, though, I'll write every Sunday when I can. 

Every time I think about that pie-supper I just have to laugh. My poor little pie! It had more wrecks than it deserved. I don't know whether you'll agree with me or not but don't you think it was sorta silly to sit up all night? I'll probably have to do some explaining why but I have my points. 

You've got my curiosity aroused. You sound sorta mysterious about "something to tell me."

Jiminee! What was that fellow trying to do the other day—put you on the spot? I'm sure I wouldn't know how to answer. Your guess is just as good as anyone else's. Maybe "guess" isn't the right word. I just wouldn't know. 

Whee! Now, what was that for? Gee, I'm getting good! I can catch everytime and not even miss. Thank you, sweetheart. 

May I have the privilege of throwing that "something" back to you? O.K. Here 'tis. 

It's now 12:30 so I'd better be shutting my "peepers" or they'll be shutting tomorrow in classes. I'm not one bit sleepy, though. All I had for supper was a cup of hot tea—they didn't have anything else I wanted. The tea must be keeping me awake. 

Goodnight and

Love,

Mabel.

P.S. I just happened to think of something Fibber McGee and Molly said tonight. Molly said "Fibber is as stubborn as a male." Someone said, "You mean mule, don't you? " She replied, "Oh, well, they're synonymous." Believe it! 

 

Postmark March 31, 1941

From: Mabel Dixon, College P.O., Box 183, Richmond, Ky.

To: Mr. Earl Boggs, 413 Kentucky Ave., Norton, Virginia

Richmond, Kentucky

March 30, 1941

Dear Earl,

'Tis Sunday afternoon and I'll get down to business—just like I said I would. Got any objections?

I've got two letters from you to answer. Double duty.  

First of I want to thank you for your picture. What do you think is wrong with it? Looks perfectly natural except for a smile that should be there. And when you get one that passes your censorship I'll find a place for it. 

Sunday night,

10:30

Guess I'd better finish this letter. Bernice, Requa Kincer, Ann Long and I have just come back from the show, "Virginia." It was real good. "The Lady Called Eve" is going to be on Thursday. I'd like to see it. I'll be it'll be crazy. 

Jimmy James and his orchestra are on the radio playing the soothingest music! Oh, boy!

I've been so lazy all day. I don't usually have a good chance to be lazy but when I do I really get lazy. I didn't even wake up until 10:30 this morning. I read a little this afternoon—I should have read a lot. I went to the show this evening—that's all. Umm-m-mm that show! Bet it would have been more so with you with me! 

No, I didn't write that poem. I couldn't write poetry if I tried. 

Gee! I envy you—getting to go home whenever you get homesick. I don't dare get homesick 'cause I don't do anything about it. No use mooning! But, unless we change our mind, I'll get to go home Spring Vacation—only 17 more days. I can't believe it. And don't think for one minute that I don't want you to come. The only reason I sounded doubtful is that I was afraid you couldn't get off very well. If you can come I'd be tickled to death but don't go to any extra trouble for me.  

Last Saturday afternoon I said, "I'm going to the Library and study all afternoon and I just dare anyone to disturb me." Well, I was back in the stacks and had about seven books down that I needed. I was all set to go to work when Bernice came over and said I had a long distance telephone call. So I wrote a note and put it on the books asking that they be left alone until I go back. Bernice said whoever called would call back in about 20 minutes. So I waited, and waited, and waited, but nothing happened. At 4:30 I had to go get my books. I wondered what had happened and I didn't get straightened out until I got your letter Thursday. Wasted all Saturday afternoon waiting. Tut! Tut! But it was neither your fault nor mine. Guess the girl at the desk got things mixed up. 

A diary is a very personal belonging so you won't get to see mine but I have been telling it the truth about you. If you want to think it's something good or something bad about you—you can take your choice. I'm not telling. I've just been telling it the truth. 

I'll have to wait until morning to finish this letter because it's 11:00 and I'm liable to get caught. They got me once this week but I don't care. 

Monday morn.,

March 31, 1941

Good morning, kiddo.

After a good night's sleep and breakfast I think maybe I can finish this letter in grand style. 

I'm feeling pretty good this morning even if it is supposed to be "blue Monday," and the sun isn't shining and all that. Want to know why? Just 16 more days and I'll be home and maybe you will, too. Hope so!

Today is the last day of March and tomorrow is April Fool's Day! I'll be scared to even turn around. I have a test tomorrow, too. 

"Western Union" was down here about two weeks ago. I saw the preview but I didn't think I'd like it so I didn't go. 

No, I didn't have anything against you for listening to Joe Louis' prize fight. I listen to him, too, but I just don't like him. I like to listen to prize fights. 

My goodness! Can't a feller have an Ideal Home without getting married? After all, an old maid has to live some place, and since she has to live why not make that place Ideal? (You though you had me there. Ha! Ha!)

Now, I wasn't jumping all over you for sitting(?) up all night. We couldn't very well have done anything else since we were not in our own home. I suppose that would have been out of place for us to suggest something like going to bed—that was Jessie's job. But it was fun! 

Your "character sketch" fit pretty good. That "trace of stubbornness" was where I got my nickname, "Donkey." Yes, I think you're far wrong in one thing—love. Now, please don't get any ideas but I do believe in the real love—the kind our parents have for each other and us—not that flimsy, make-believe kind that doesn't last. And I'd like to know where you got that idea, anyway. All in all your "character sketch" was complimentary and very flattering. I'll write one of you sometime. Not that I intend to show you what your faults are but I'll write one, anyway. 

I know my letters have been short but it isn't your fault. You get alarmed over the least little thing like that. (In blue, a note written later by Earl: Why shouldn't I)  You're just as interesting as ever to me and don't say you're not anymore. 

It's 15 minutes until class time so I'd better close and get ready. I'll have to mail this letter, too. 

Bye, sweetheart. 

Love,

Mabel

P.S. You bet your boots I'm thinking!