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  • Writer's pictureFlea Market Love Letters

July 4, 1917.

Dear Mother:

I suppose you have our grades of last semester now. I was in the office last week and I was told that the grades would be sent out the last of the week. I have not stopped since to my grades but I will this week. I commenced my work in French properly, my first written lesson was perfect.. The French correct, and also the punctuation. The mechanical [unreadable] are counted off just the same as the mistakes in French but my paper was absolutely correct. There are 28 in the class and all are going good work but only 4 or 5 had perfect papers out of the class. My 2nd lesson has not been returned, and I have just finished my lesson for tomorrow.

I have scarcely enough time to study and I have decided to drop my outside work if I cannot greatly reduce the time I devote to it. I have spent the day in study. We had a swimming meet this morning. My record was better than that of any other entry. I took first place in a 50 yd swim on my back, and first place in the 202 yd race. No other entrant took two firsts. Two other entrants made one first and one second respectively. There were only 3 events held. Two of the good swimmers were on picnics but even if they had completed I would have been sure of first place in the 220 yd swim, which is really the best + hardest event of the day. Medals or ribbons will probably be awarded to the winners, but I am not sure. I hope this is time because I have never before qualified for a medal in any athletic event and it is sure time for me to win something.

I always have had some events happen which cause me to remember the 4th of July. I remember distinct events for two 4ths while we we lived on 2nd St., and for 3 while we were on the farm and 3 or 4 in town. Last 4th I was in country selling books. On that day I ate my first meal at a farm house, as a book canvasser with a family who proved to be friends for the entire summer summer and hosts and companions at church and Sunday school. Because it was a holiday, I stopped often and lunched on the first blackberries + wild or volunteer raspberries of the year. I also remember a 4th in Oklahoma with Uncle Bert in camp.

With love to all

Daniel H. Osborn

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