With two finals under his belt, Dart declares them a “lynching.” Of course, he follows his usual pattern of predicting dire outcomes, but the truth is revealed in his comment that he can get a 66 on the final and still pull a C in Spanish. Remember how he’s been suggesting all semester that he can’t possibly pass this course? That may be a wee bit of an exaggeration.
He calls his psych test one of “Wallen’s Wonders;” because Dart wonders what it was all about.
But, he admits success in the form of the Skyline that came out today. His sketch of Mr. Schmidt is published therein, along with several other fine pieces by other writers. He’s sending a copy to Dot.
He writes at length about the rain. It rained yesterday. It rained today. It was a 24-hour “cloud burst,” coming down so hard that the storm sewers were overwhelmed and the city streets flooded. On this, the second day of the month, Cleveland has reached 45% of it’s normal rainfall for June.
His cousin Margaret, the pianist, is getting to fulfill one of her life’s dreams this weekend. She’s playing the organ at the wedding of a friend, but this is not just any organ. This is the biggest and best organ in Ohio, housed in a church near the Cleveland art museum. The church, whose real name Dart fails to mention, is dubbed “The Holy Oil Can” because of it’s unusual shape. I know the church he mentions because my parents always pointed it out to me in our visits to the city when I was younger. I wonder if folks still call it by its irreverent nickname of 1947. I wonder if today’s youth would even know what an oil can looks like.
Dart delivered a book report and a copy of Skyline to his journalism professor at the Plain Dealer tonight. Mr. Dildine told him he could forget about doing the third book report because he’d been doing “very satisfactory” work in class this semester. Mr. D. also promised to pass Dart’s Skyline story around the newspaper so the staff can read the character sketch of the editor, Mr. Schmidt. Dart hopes the old man isn’t too mad about the piece.
He suspects that Dot won’t feel too much like painting their new apartment after all the painting she’s been doing at home. He promises that their bedroom will be easier to paint than that huge kitchen she just finished; there are no cupboards to paint around and no heavy appliances to move.
Then he asks, “How’ja miss out on sleep Thursday night? No more of that, ya’ understand? I want my bride (that’s you, Dot!) to be fresh as a daisy when I see her, and 5 hours of sleep isn’t even enough for a buttercup!”
He wishes her good night and tells her to keep a stiff upper lip and her cheerful expression. He expects to see her one week after she gets this letter!