[Year determined from perpetual calendar and LP's letters from the same time period]

[Letterhead:]

A.H.P

Thursday-Feb. 15 [1940]

Dear Linus:

The ballet last night was wonderful. Danilova was the Queen of the Swans and Guerord the Prince's Friend. Our four little swans were better than ever. Everything went off very well. Little Miss Roake came, our supper was good, and everyone was happy.

Harrison Davies says there is a stinging review in the g.a.c.s. [?] which came yesterday afternoon by our good friend Kisty. They said the laboratory is buzzing about it- that the review is very complimentary but poor Kisty's jealousy gets the upper hand before he finishes. I'm eager to see it . Wait until next Spring- or rather this Spring. It sounds as if he wrote it for my benefit rather

[page 2]

than for its application to you.

Crellie says to "go get Daddy out of the train" whenever he sees the car.

There was a magnificent rain and hail storm about 4.30 yesterday with a wonderful, one of the best I've ever seen- rainbow. Everything was beautiful last night coming home.

How are you, dear love? Peter was mailman at school, too, because of his foresight in coming prepared with his mail bag. Some boy! He went down town [sic] with Miss Raoke. He surely is enamored of her. He acted so funny, so robust and making a great deal of noise- just to be impressive. I had to giggle. Linus Jr. asked her if she wanted something other than a mere thank you for the little Valentine she brought. I certainly was amused at that. She ignored him.

You see that they take after their Papa!

[page 3, on same letterhead]

I was wide awake on returning from the ballet. We had had a coca cola with lemon in the coffee shop at the Biltmore, and since the audience wouldn't let the dancers leave (there was so much enthusiasm) we didn't get started home until practically twelve. I was glad that I hadn't gone to the Niemanns [?].

It is a sunny clear day today but quite cold. Just a perfect day.

How are you, dear love? Did you sleep well and were you warm enough?

We miss you very much. I hope you aren't working too hard on the train. I think it is so hard on ones eyes to read for any length of time on the train.

Dr. Bill took the children today but they wanted me to take them.

[page 4]

My lip is in a bad way today. I must hunt up the zinc oxide ointment.

You will arrive in Chicago tomorrow but will you arrive in New York in time on Saturday?

Will you see the Hognesses? I'm about to decide to not keep Beulah. Still she made an awfully good dinner last night. We had turkey pie with little mushrooms etc. in it.

Good bye for this time- Your girl, Ava Helen

Thursday, 12:20.

[February 15, 1940]

Dearest little wife:

Although eighteen hours have gone by since I wrote the first letter to you, very little has happened, aside from a great amount of thinking about how much I love you. I mailed my letter at Needles at 620, bought and ate some salted almonds (which were good and crisp), read a couple of short stories + then went to bed at 8! At 830 I thought about the start of the ballet (he lac des ayques[?], wasn’t it?) and then, when I awakened every hour or two, I would think about you, although I didn’t look at my watch to see what the time was. I slept better towards morning, and got up at 10 Pacific time (11 Mountain). For breakfast I had grapefruit, sausages, buckwheat cakes + coffee.

When I wakened at about 8 we were in a snowstorm + the ground was covered with snow! We were in a forest of little pines + we passed by a roaring campfire - probably some tramp’s, though I didn’t see him. Now the weather is clear, and there are only patches of snow on the ground, with snow-covered peaks in the distance.

An hour ago we stopped for five minutes at Las Vegas, N.M., + I had my after-breakfast walk. It was cold - there is a coating of ice on the cars, with icicles hanging down. There are a dozen women on train, all looking exactly alike, with brown knee-length fur coats as uniform.

Since Las Vegas I have finished correcting my third set of proof. The fourth I shall leave until my return. I shall now begin again on the applications.

Love to the children, and loads of love and kisses to my own little sweet wife from her Paddy

Linus.

[postcard of a Dutch? boy and girl standing in front of a windmill]

Dear Mamma

Linus did not go to the picnic. He went to a movie with George Green.

We had

Love

Linus biv. [sic] and gave him a knife $1.59 and a comb 10¢

[letter]

5 ³⁰ PM Thursday

Dear little love:

I hope that these letters reach you one at a time. This should come on Saturday. I have no news for you, but I can tell you again that I love you. You are the finest girl in the world - and the smartest. I noticed that Christine Weston, whose novel "Be Thou the Bride" I read in proof, is a strong contender for a fellowship. I thought that her writing was feeble - melodramatic plot, thin character portrayal, even grammatical errors. If you couldn't do better than that I would be greatly surprised.

This afternoon I wrote about ten pages of antibody manuscript and read a lot of digests about writers and artists. I can't form any opinion about them from the digests. The advisory board will handle the artists, but I wish I had read more books by the writers.

We have just stopped at a place on the Colorado plains where I see exposed some sandstone rock showing wonderful ripples. -------During this interim I had my dinner - a pretty poor dinner too! I had a big table to myself for a while - then three women came in and sat down without speaking to me, and I felt uncomfortable until I got away & came in here to write.

Last night I wakened thinking "Another earthquake". It was only the train jerking at a station. I suppose that this shows that I am now a real Californian.

There seem to be some movie people aboard - one is a dame laden with mascara who at each station walks back and forth with two dogs, one an immense Great Dane and one a toy spaniel.

Night fell while I was having dinner. The sky was beautiful, shading from a pale glowing pinkish-blue in the West through all shades to a deep blue-black in the East.

I love you, little darling. You are my own sweet wife. Be happy with our little children.

Your own

Linus.