5/10/39
Darling:
Three times a week, say I, so I write to you every day. Let’s see if I can’t turn out something more delectable than that funereal dirge of yesterday.
Everything went along swell today. I found a couple of boidies* that I have been trying to isolate, and more astonishing, I found ways of eliminating them. Yes, precious, your little boy has a lot to learn, but he is gradually getting into the swing of things.
Our team played at baseball today, but since the score was 23 to 13 against us, I shan’t say that they played. Of course, I should explain that they got the lead before I went in, but that wouldn’t be fair. I only fielded two balls in the five innings that I played. I was stuck out in center field where I couldn’t do much harm.
The old boy here, Mr. Brooks, isn’t doing so well. I shouldn’t be surprised if he passed on the way in a couple of months. It shall be unpleasant, but for the best all around.
Having only had a lettuce and tomato sandwich for supper, I am going to play hooky and go over to Philly for dinner. One way to make me feel good is to play hard and then eat heavily, after a bath and a suitable lapse of time. I shall be only half of this tonight for I didn’t have the opportunity to play hard and the old state of the exchequer won’t permit the heavy eating.
I received a great shock today. I actually had a chance to use some material which I learned in college! It was amazing, as it was the only equation I remembered from a course which I nearly flunked! I’m afraid to look it up for fear I didn’t remember it correctly.
Baby girl, it can’t be much longer. I’m just spoiling for a little girl back home. I sure do wish she was going out to supper with me tonight.
Pohle’s, the tea-room of which I am so fond, has closed. I have known it for some time. The same people have one a couple of miles from here, so when you come out, we can drop in on them. Among other things, my gastronomical guardian angel is getting married to a young doc in town this spring, and they might be an interesting couple to know, as they seem to be our kind of people.
It’s time to stop and get some supper. Two hours of baseball on a sandwich isn’t such a hot combination.
Your husband, Cy. XXX—more where this came from.
P.S. I sent Mother a screwy card for Mothers’ day & didn’t dare sign your name too. The enclosure is the first M. Day present you have gotten I presume. Have a good time on it, precious girl!
*I think “boidies” is Cy’s way of saying “birdies” with an east coast accent, and I presume he’s referring to a problem he solved at work, i.e. killing a couple of birds with one stone, for example?