Monday, January 6, 1947

True to his word, it’s another short letter from Dart tonight as he gets back into the rhythm of school. Still nothing from Dot.

He learned he got an 89 on his last Spanish test he’d been worried about. That’s nothing to be proud of, but his average over four tests is still 95%, so he’s in no danger of flunking it at this point.  He should learn what his most recent English and industry grades are tomorrow.

His new schedule is set for the second semester – very similar to the first one. He’s continuing prose, journalism, American lit and Spanish. He’s adding an intro to poetry class. No mention of industry, so maybe he’s done with that one. Anyway, that’s 14 hours – the same number he took in the fall term.

He had a talk with Mr. Collins, the city editor at the Plain Dealer the other night. Dart had thought he was a Yale man, and wanted to see if he knew Arthur Chamberlain, but Mr. Collins didn’t go to Yale. In the process of the chat, the editor asked about the classes Dart was taking and as he left, he told Dart that he may get a chance to do a little writing for the PD. Dart is thrilled and terrified at the prospect!

He wishes her good night and hopes she’s taking good care of herself. If she isn’t, he demands an explanation why.

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