Dart tells Dot that he typed a long letter to El today, but that he didn’t proofread it very thoroughly, so please ask her to overlook his shortcomings.
He has most of Uncle Guy’s new address that Dot asked for but he has to check to see if he’s in the town of Willoughby or Wickliffe before he sends it to her.
Work was pretty slow tonight. The biggest thing was that Mr. Bacon, the telegraph editor, asked Dart about coming to work for him in his advertising agency. He’s looking for a guy to do some writing and general production office work. It’s exactly the kind of job Dart is hoping for, where he can get his foot in the door. Mr. Bacon and his wife are hoping to expand beyond straight advertising and get into the employer publications field. He really wants Dart for the job, but Dart can’t fit it in with his class schedule. He wants Dart to keep in touch with him in case there’s a schedule change for him that could work. “The more I think about the job, the more I like it.”
He tells her that sometimes when she responds to some of his letters, like the one he told her she might want to burn, he wishes he had made a copy of it so he’d remember what he wrote. “Gee, I wish we could be talking about what I wrote about; doing the things we talk about.”
She is completely forgiven for not writing after her grueling choral rehearsal the other night. He knows how tough those times can be. He remembers how hard his high school chorus prepared for their concerts. They all hated those practices, but loved them, too.
He certainly hopes that her “troubles” didn’t come on Thanksgiving Day and that they wont be around to pain her on the night of the concert.
The Peterson family had chicken for Thanksgiving because they were just a small family, but most of the rest of the fixin’s were the same as she described from their table.
Did he mention that he’s going to try and sell his “Iron Hobby Horse” to the model railroad magazine if it turns our well enough. It’ll surely need lots of editing before that, though.
He’s in a bit of a stew about what to get everyone for Christmas. His budget is so ridiculously small that he doesn’t know how to make it spread far enough. He knows a particular book he’d like to get for his brother, but that’s the only idea he’s had, and the store shelves are already looking bare.
“Good night, Dot. I get a tummy full of feathers every time I think about what we’re planning for June. I love you so much that I’m at a loss as to tell you how much.”