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  • Writer's pictureFlea Market Love Letters

August 23, 1938.


I just got up from m supper and came right in to my room to write my honey. Swell huh?

We arrived here safely but a little later than last Monday. We didn’t get away from York until 6:30 A.M. this morning. John (Butch) missed his first car. I hope you are feeling bushels better now than Friday. Are you, huh?

We are going to go into Frenchtown tonite and see Alexander, you know the fellow with the swing orchestra. Then I will mail this letter to my sweety. I am sitting on the bed and writing on my case. Not a bad arrangement for a desk.

I guess I won’t have to say anything to Bill on Thursday because Dad told him this morning that I had in mind to tell him. When dad told him that Vernie was running a girl in Chambersburg, Bill said in a very much surprised tone ‘Is he doing that?’ He of course couldn’t hide the fact that he knew it already.

Dad and I were talking about it on the way down this morning and Ken was as quiet as a clam.

Dad is very much disappointed that he didn’t bring his bathing suit along, now that he has seen the Delaware in this vicinity.

Honey, when did you get this letter there will only be three more days until I come home. Soon you can sing – ‘How time flies’ May be if you sorts got yourself a little colored boyfriend the time would move faster, a little fellow like the one where we took his picture in one of the southern cities.

I can see him now. Standing there with a broom in his hand and a smile from ear to ear. I believe we have that picture somewhere around the apartment. I must look when I get home. Well sweetheart, I must close for this time and I will write again tomorrow nite.

With all my love until I see you again.

Always –


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