Poor Dart is feeling mighty low tonight. First, they have no heat. It seems the roofers damaged the metal chimney extender yesterday, which the wind then knocked over completely. Now the wind rushes down the furnace flue, extinguishing the feeble little flame. The family has been using the gas oven and the gas grate in the living room for heat, but none of that makes it to the bedrooms.

But the real reason for his depleted state of mind is that there are no letters form Dot today.

And his grades have taken a turn for the worst. On recent tests, he had a D in industry, a C in the test on Emerson, his Spanish has dropped from a 95 to an 89.

Now he’s afraid he must quit his job although he has depended on the income. “However, no matter how much we worship money or desire the things it can be exchanged for, there comes a time for a decision. I feel that the job, although giving me some very valuable contacts and experience, is taking too much time from my school work.” He goes on for a while about how his classes demand much more time than is recommended for their credit hours. I notice he doesn’t, however, factor in how many hours he works on his model trains, spends daydreaming about Dot, or writes assignments that are much longer than they are supposed to be. Perhaps his blue mood is blinding him from the variety of choices he has in adjusting his schedule. I hope he doesn’t do anything rash and quit his job too soon.

Suddenly, his letter switches gears. His paycheck this week allowed him to put nearly $5.00 in savings. He got two A’s in his prose workshop class, and had the honor of both pieces being read aloud in class.

He ends abruptly by bidding Dot good night and asking, “When are you going to let me see another of your swell letters?”

The bottom 2/3 of the page he filled by drawing a large rectangle with a notation: Use this space if you can’t find anything else for stationery.

I hope she gets the hint.