This is one of those letters from Dart that covers a lot of bases. There’s clever whimsy, a dash of melancholy, some silly chatter, and, of course, romance. It begins with a confession that the USO stationery it’s written on was filched from that club last night after he got only four letters finished before the place closed. Then begins Dart’s fanciful conversation with an unusual little man.

“I went out to watch the little men unzip the sidewalks from the streets and roll them all up in bundles. The little men looked surprisingly like the ones who used to roll up Cleveland’s sidewalks at midnight. I asked them how they got from Charleston at 11:00 to Cleveland at 12:00, and they wouldn’t tell me. They did say they get all the towns in between, on the way. The ones they don’t have time for stay open all night.”

After chatting with the boss of this sidewalk crew for a while, Dart asked if they ever got a vacation. The boss answered that sometimes they leave the sidewalks rolled up in small towns all the way through Sunday morning so his guys can get a little rest. “I told him I guessed I was having hallucinations. He didn’t deny it, but he just chuckled behind his white stubble, octagonal specs and ruddy complexion.”

Eventually the little man looked around, discovered his crew had left town without him, and had to scurry away, lest Cleveland be 10 minutes late in closing.

All I can say is, it’s a good thing Dart is not a drinker!

Today Dart scored a mattress from a guy who’s being discharged. He wasted no time in moving into his new bunk, and was delighted to find a hook at the head of the bed. He promptly suspended his favorite picture of the “prettiest girl I’m in love with” and felt right at home. He told the pretty girl that he loved her, and he swears she answered, “I love you, too.” He’s so happy to have that picture back out in the open. It’s the one that smiled at him from his bedside table during those long, weary months in the hospital. He’s also grateful to have that mattress, and to show his appreciation, he took a swell nap in it this afternoon.

If he can have his portrait taken in Charleston, does Dot think her parents would want one?

“My name appeared on the watch list today for the dear old mid watch. I have to stand around at the foot of the gangway, with a rifle, and try to be looking the other way when officers come aboard, because I don’t know how to salute with a rifle. (What has the Navy taught him in 2-1/2 years, if not how to salute while carrying a rifle?)

Turning to a favorite topic of food, he declares that if all liver were cooked as deliciously as the dinner he ate on the ship tonight, he wouldn’t have such a strong dislike for the wretched stuff. This particular meal was the first really good food he’s had on this ship and it gave him a “whole new slant on that vile, nasty organ food.”

There was no mail for him today, so he’s facing a stark weekend. “I love you, Dot. It’s worth repeating that I’m thankful I don’t have to say ‘Don’t forget it.’ Thank you for being the wonderful person you are.”

Dot begins with a brief rundown of the Army/Navy football game, which the Navy naturally lost. Frankly, I doubt Dart cares a whit. She happily announced that she received a letter from him today – the one that brought the news his ship would be in port until at least Jan. 15. Could he at least ask if he could spend Christmas with her in Greenwich? Does the Navy have a grudge against him? Oh, what a time they’d have, if only he could get there! She remarks that thinking up happy scenes like that are what keeps a smile on her face. (She claims the smile is actually laughter at the absurd thought that the Navy would let them see each other.)

It’s good news that his eyes are so good, but what of those nasty headaches? What’s causing them? She has a wicked one herself at this very moment, so she knows what she’s talking about. She’s picked up the bug that’s spreading through the house. It has taken the form of a nasty chest cold and she’s decided to spend the day in bed to try to nip it in the bud. She hasn’t time to be in bed, with exams just around the corner, but she certainly doesn’t want to be sick just when she’s about to go home!

She reports that her thumb is doing well. Portions of her new nail resemble parts of the Rocky Mountains, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. The doc says she’ll be good as new in 3 to 4 months.

Boldly, she makes a little suggestion about their wedding night. She suggests they pull the shades so they won’t see each other blush. Then adds, “I wouldn’t be surprised if neither of us blushed very much. After all, it’s nothing to be ashamed of and we’ll both be equally foreign to the experience.”

She loves writing to him, and would like to go on and on, but there’s nothing more to say for today and Ellie’s on her way to mail some things and has offered to take this letter, so she closes, with all her love.