My dear Sweetie:

It was so nice to talk with you awhile ago, and I wanted to talk to you the whole time but felt that your mother would be most anxious to talk to her children and Margie would be almost passing out to talk to her aunts and uncles that I just couldn 't bring myself to monopolize the telephone.

They were all extremely happy to talk to all of you. Frank thought it was an expensive proceeding but I noticed he had water in his eyes when he finished talking to his mother--so it was worth it.

My mother has really had an upset. She was pale as a ghost today when I went out there and I found she'd had a chill yesterday, although the furnace was on and so was the gas grate. She's aged considerably in the last year--more than in the previou s ten--and I suppose the end must come even after ninety years, but I don't want it to. She's one of the leftovers of the feudist-pioneer days--the days that created the things for which we fight today. She's no diplomat as your daughter is, she's no puri st in speech as you are, but she has something the country needed fifty years ago and which is gone now, but I have hopes that maybe the purge we're going through will bring back. I'm opposed to backward views, however, except as examples. We looked back in 1920 and that's what's the matter today. Lot's wife looked back, and see what happened to her. At that, she was a jewel compared to old Lot. He was as bad and no account as they make them--but they didn't tell us that at Sunday school. I found it out b y reading the record--which I still do. . . .

Kiss Margie, love to you,

Harry