Dear Bess:

   It was quite a wrench to see you go away. I watched the train pull out as I walked up the platform and I felt most decidedly lonesome. I'm glad the d--- Senate acted according to its usual form and that the weather conspired with it so I could take you to the train. I am more of a sentimentalist at fifty-seven than I was at sixteen-and that is a most astronomical statement. You know at sixteen I had read all the books, including the encyclopedias, in the Independence Public Library and had been through the Bible twice and I thought-and stil1 think-that you were Esther, Ruth, and Bathsheba, all combined. And I still believe in Santa Clause, in spite of my friend T.J.P., O'Malley, Murray, et al. Guess I'm a real d--- f---. Saw old man Shannon this morning, and he is a sentimentalist too-but a political one. There is some difference if you can figure it out. . . . Be sure and kiss my baby for me. I'm glad she's a beautiful lady too-aren't you?

Love to you,

Harry