3/21/39 (Original correspondence)
3/21/39
Darling:
I am so damned mad at the printer that I could choke , but I guess it won’t do any good. I told him that I wanted the name 1/16th inch high, and it is about 20% larger than that, making the difference between a refined personal letter-head and a glaring business one. I shall be damn sick and tired of these things before I get rid of them. The envelopes are all right, except that he got them the next size larger than the ones I wanted. That’s the last time I shall go to that place for printing. It is supposed to be the best in Camden or something.
Well, enough of the griping. You might let me know what you think of the things so that I may know what to get the next time. Of course, with the page filled, it doesn’t look quite so badly. Or do you like them?
By now, you should have gotten my letters of the 20th and 18th. I’m glad that you stopped in to see the folks as they enjoy your visits so much. You fill in the hole left by both Jack and I, which is some order.
The show idea on Saturday sounds good. You’ll probably feel a whole lot better if you let down for some honest to goodness good entertainment once in a while. How do you remember the names of the song numbers? I don’t even know most of them when I hear them, much less remember them more than an hour afterwards. Honey, with your brains and my good luck, we can really go places.
It is nice to know that the dog-house fund is growing. When I get to $100 salted away here, I shall start paying back John. I shall let you know before the first installment so that you may send the smelling salts as planned.
As concerns Helen of Troy, I heard from JH that he had sent it, and asked him what he thought of the idea of letting Jimmy read it. I haven’t heard from him yet, but if he approves, I think it would do the infant a lot of good. I wish I had read it ten years ago instead of last year!
28 more days. Of course, it won’t be an abrupt change at that point, but it will at least mean that we have started our break for freedom. It is one of the few things that means so much to me that I am afraid of the outcome if not favorable. I feel that there is only one ultimate solution, even though it takes years. I don’t anticipate any opposition, but if we get it, baby, somebody else is going to wish that they had never gotten into the fight. We’ve just got to win, and that is all there is to it.
So you’ve started your Easter shopping early, have you! Good for you. Self respect can’t be bought, but it certainly can be bolstered up by attractive clothing. Someday, darling girl, you’ll have all of that that you can desire. I now know how parents feel about their kid’s baby clothes. Honestly, anything you’ve worn has a halo around it to me.
The phone call may be a little after your birthday to make it fit in with plans here, but you can be darned sure that there will be a very torrid connection between here and there sometime in the immediate vicinity of April 7. Darling, that is going to be our birthday present to each other. It will be paid for with money which is at least half yours, so don’t go straining anything about the 25th.
I once boiled for about two days because I found lipstick marks on a letter. It must be the girl involved, because not only did I not boil, but I have been kissing it at perfectly outrageous intervals ever since I got the letter open.
Just glanced at the letter-head and am boiling over again. I shall glance to the left at my darling’s lips—there, that fixes it.
I really must stop, honey bunch. I haven’t taken my laundry out for over a week, and I have a pair of shoes to take out to be half-soled. I have about four letters to write when I get back from supper, as well as 300 pages to read, and a problem to work on.
The waitress, the one engaged to the young doc, had a good laugh over me last evening. She said that I looked so used to receiving special attention that everyone gave it to me without a thought. I told her that between my Mother, two big sisters, and the girl I was engaged to, that I was probably the most perfectly spoiled man in the world. It’s mostly your fault, though, darling. Because no one has ever treated me more nicely.
Whoops! Tempus fugit*—20 minutes to get laundry together and down town.
Loved to my little wife. Cy
*”Time flies”