As Dart begins this letter he is already having some anxiety about the part-time job he applied for. He wants an answer right away so he’ll know if he has a shot at a decent job.

He warns her that she may be getting more typed letters from now on. His journalism teacher, Mr. Dildine, requires that all their homework be typed. “Claims that if we get a typewriter, we can train it to write our stories for us. He works for the Plain Dealer and says that their most competent reporter uses only one finger and a thumb, but that he’s trained his machine to turn out excellent work. So – I must rent some sort of a word-mill which will grind out my rubbish.”

As he writes several Spanish phrases to show Dot how much he’s learning, he also tells her that his Spanish teacher is “more scatterbrained than Spring Byngington is in her most flighty movie role.” He hopes the class will be fun.

He’s not going to take photography because he couldn’t reschedule it. That leaves  him with 14 hours and full time status is 12 hours, so his GI stipend will not be reduced.

The family received two letters from Burke today. He loves the University of Chicago! He’s living in a one-man room with another guy, whom Burke describes as a “quiz kid.” Much of Burke’s letters are devoted to the description of his beautiful surroundings: dining halls with two-story stained glass windows and frescoed ceilings; leaded glass windows with small diamond shaped panes, carved and paneled corridors. I wonder if that’s where my uncle gained his first appreciation of stained and leaded glass that later took him to a career as an artist of major stained glass pieces.

Dart stops writing around midnight so that he can go downtown and be among the first to ride the new interurban cars being launched tonight. When he returns, he’s full of enthusiastic praise for the new conveniences. They’re so quiet one can have a conversation inside without having to shout. The ride is smooth, and the starts and stops are easy and graceful. They’re even ventilated and well heated. How he wishes she could have been experiencing their glory right along with him.

He signs off that he “loves her muchly,” and then adds a PS. “I know your name is not Muchly. It’s Dot.”

#          #          #

Dot explains that she couldn’t write to him last night because she felt as though she were “bleeding to death through the eyes.” Now there’s so much to report that she doubts she’ll be able to fit it all on the single sheet of paper she has left.

When she and Janie and Doug went to the county fair, they spent most of their money on rides and cotton candy. She had her palm read by some phony fortune teller who told her that she’ll have a long and healthy life and that her heart belongs to a dark-haired man. Well, she may have been a phony, but she got those things right!

This afternoon, her mother drove her to White Plains for an interview with the telephone company. She had to read, spell, write and do some arithmetic problems. The folks there were very encouraging and invited her back on Wednesday for a physical and a battery of other tests. Those must be done in NYC, so she thinks she’ll make a day of hanging out in the city. She’s getting pretty excited about the job, but is a little disappointed that she’ll have to work some weekends and holidays.

She and Janie started a shorthand class at the high school tonight. She can already tell it’s going to be loads of fun. The class meets every Monday and Wednesday night from 7:30 to 9:30. That’s the same time as typing class, so Dot will just have to buy a typewriter and practice for herself in an effort to increase her speed.

Tomorrow, she and Janie are joining an adult choral group. They put on a beautiful Christmas program every year. She only hopes she doesn’t get a split shift at the phone company because her evenings are filling up.

She’s spending the night at Janie’s house tonight, but that poor girl has fallen asleep waiting for Dot to finish her letter.

“Hope your first day of school was satisfactory and that the following days and weeks will prove even more so. I love you, my Darling Dart, and wish we were going to be together this year.”