230 PM
AIR MAIL
Friday at noon.
[February 16, 1940]
Dear little wife Ava Helen:
I have been feeling very lonesome for you — but two days (each of 23 hours) have gone by and I hope that the week will not be too long. I love you, and I will be glad to be back home with you. It will be fun in April when we go East together.
We are approaching Chicago now, with about 50 miles to go. Now we are passing by the desolate region where the ground has been dug up and left in big piles of gravel — I see that these are coal mines, the coal being in a stratum about 30 feet underground, reached by stripping off the surface with big steam shovels. I have an hour and a half in Chicago, and I plan to buy some shirts and mail my proof.
Yesterday afternoon and evening, till about 9, I read my applications, getting through most of them. Some are very interesting. One man, after being ordained a minister, was offered a post in a rich church and the pastorship of a run-down church in the slums. He took the latter, to do more service. Then later he resigned and lived the life of St [sic] Francis — he went around doing carpentry work and anything else he could for anybody, accepting no pay whatever, but giving his services freely. Food and shelter he accepted as + when they were offered freely. This he did for ten years. During part of the period he went barefooted + in flowing robes. For a while he had companions, to whom he taught his philosophy. He read over + over all the works of some thinkers — Nietschze [sic], St. Augustine, Walt Whitman, etc. Later 125 of his friends collected money to send him to India to see Gandhi + Tagore, + then to buy him a farm, where he supports himself + writes. He is about 40 now. I doubt that he deserves a Fellowship — but his [sic] is sincere in his search after Truth.
I had lamb chops for dinner last night, + grapefruit + buckwheat cakes this morning (without the sausages).
I am enclosing clippings from the Sat. Eve. Post — they represent everything of value in it. With loads and loads of love and kisses for you, my own darling sweetheart, I am
Your own husband,
Linus
[Enclosure: cartoon drawing of two East Indian men, each sitting on top an elegantly robed elephant, and each wearing a turban and holding a spear, with the Taj Mahal in the background.]
"Do you post?"
[Enclosure: clipped paragraph from a newspaper article.]
From Sonneberg, Woolworth made a trip through the mountains of Saxony to Gotha.
"Gotha,
"March 21.
"We left a comparatively warm climate and by the time we got on top of the mountains we found about six inches of snow. . . . Talk about the Horseshoe Bend, Mauch Chunk, or Hudson River scenery, it is no comparison to what we saw on this ride up the mountain. On the top of this mountain we find the largest manufacturers of toy tea sets in the world, and were treated in royal style. The proprietor lent us his team, carriage and coachman to visit all factories. Nearly every [this last part circled in pencil:] sample room we have been in has been so cold we could hardly stand it. . . . Don't think many newly married couples come to Germany to spend their honeymoons, for there is not such a thing as a double bed in the whole country."
[Enclosure: clipped paragraph from a newspaper article.]
[. . . ]You see no dudes on the street, but sensible-looking businessmen, and it hardly seems possible among such fine-looking, intelligent people that not one in a thousand can speak a word of English, though they look more like Americans than in any city we have been in. . . ."
[marginalia, with arrow pointing to above:]
Woolworth's thought! in Vienna
[Enclosure: clipped paragraph from a newspaper article.]
While on the train for Paris Woolworth writes:
"Last night the first Frenchman came into the car I was in, and I listened very attentively and managed to learn one very important word, oui (wee), which means ‘yes’ in French."
[Enclosure: clipped paragraph from a newspaper article.]
If I ever come to Europe again I shall not leave my silk hat at home and will surely bring a dress suit. . . .
[Enclosure: clipped paragraph from a newspaper article.]
I have a good appetite and can eat most anything, but draw the line at sausage and caviar. The latter is composed of fish eggs, raw, soaked, in oil, and looks like black tea.
[Enclosure: cartoon drawing of a highway running off into the distance, with power lines along one side; a man in a tiny convertible car is driving down the middle of the road, halfway in each lane; a man driving the other way in a huge truck marked "TRANSCONTINENT MOVING VAN" has had to swerve off the road, partway onto the shoulder, to avoid the little car; moving van driver is leaning out his window yelling, and the driver of the little car is looking up at him timidly.]
"Road-piggy!"
[Enclosure: comic strip. First box: cartoon drawing of a street corner, with a large puddle beside the curb. A nicely dressed man has taken off his coat, thrown it across the puddle, and is gracefully motioning for a nicely dressed woman to step on it to make her way across the puddle to cross the street. Second box: opposite side of the street; the woman is digging in her purse, and the man is holding his wet coat in one hand and shyly bowing his head; a thought bubble above his head shows a picture of a telephone. Third box: The man is looking at a business card with a look of shock on his face; card reads, "ACME CLEANERS, GARMENTS CLEANED AND PRESSED"]
[Enclosure: cartoon drawing of a mounted police officer writing a ticket for a man in a classy convertible car. The driver of the car is angrily looking at the proud horse, who has one hoof on the car's side step by the driver's door.]