Dart disavows any claim of having “mastered the art” of kissing, but he recalls the same kiss Dot does and believes that’s a good basis for his poem.

The Rebs have won the war between the states that is being waged within the ward, but Nurse Meany has confiscated the radio for a few days cooling off period.

He agrees that nerves can sometimes get a little rough. He’s in a bad state right now. “Seems as if I’m losing my grip on things. The blue days are coming closer together, the humor’s getting stale and little green things seem to be running up and down my spine half the time! Oh, to the depths of perdition with everything except you and me.”

He riffs on himself coming from hearty stock, but he is the exception. Shorter than much of his family, and far too skinny to boot. “You’d think that with so little flesh covering my innards, that every bite I eat would make a lump.”

He emphatically denies that he was razzing Dot about her weight. He likes her just the way she is, and even if she’s not as tiny as the girl he dreamed he’d fall in love with, she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever dated. Besides that, they seem quite congenial in their letters. He hopes they’ll be just as congenial in person for many years to come. He recalls once reading a poem with the general thought that women often insult the taste of their male companions by contradicting the complimentary remarks the fellows make.

He comments on her revelation that she’d had a “torrid” unrequited crush a while back. He, too, had such a heart-breaking affair until the lady in question told him six times in a letter to go to hell six different ways.

Well, now that he’s come to page six of this letter, it’s time to reveal the news she’s been waiting for: First, he’s still up and about and his leg shows no ill-effect. That’s good. However, his surgical wound healed too fast, became infected and burst open recently. That’s bad. Tomorrow he’ll be transferred to the infected surgical ward. “No telling what they will do to or for me there, but I’m not any too anxious to experience any more experiences in the surgery ward.”

He then says that either something very wonderful must happen to him soon, or he is now paying for all the good things he’s already had in his life (or all the cuss words he’s used). On top of his health issues, his sea bag containing his personal belongings and Dot’s picture, has been lost without a trace. It was left behind in the barracks when he was transported via ambulance to the hospital weeks ago. Apparently, when his class completed boot camp, his sea bag was misplaced in the vast bowels of a major military installation.

Dot is astounded that Dart has had another reversal in his health status . She fervently hopes he doesn’t receive a medical discharge. She also hopes she’ll be able to see him soon.

She had a letter from her friend Cynthia who is in Ohio to study piano at Oberlin. She’ll be in Cleveland over Easter and Dot is truly looking forward to seeing her. She always feels better after a visit with Cynthia because she’s so jolly and has a friendly word for everyone. I have fond memories of Cynthia when I was younger. She and Mom remained friends and I counted myself among Cynthia’s legions of fans. She had a laugh that could be heard for miles and got a huge kick out of life. She died far too young.

There’s not much more news from Willoughby, except that the weather has been extremely windy. It reminded Dot of the terrible hurricane she witnessed in New England in 1938.

She’s running behind on her store manager duties, so she must close and catch up.