December 29 - I sometimes hesitate to write how glad I am, like Pollyanna, for fear that it will sound like mush.

Here we have a two letter day to end 1916. This has been a year full of excitement for Helen and Joe. I am sure next year will be filled with insight to their relationship and all kinds of things happening in the world. Remember that the last letter Joe wrote Helen he forgot to sign his name.

Letter Number 1

Friday

My dear,

Did I tell you the story of Henry Ward Beecher's sermon on the unsigned letter? No, well, here it is.
It was the usual custom of this unique man, on Sundays to open his mail while in the pulpit, and get inspiration or ideas for his sermon from what he would read.

Well, one Sunday he received a large blank sheet of paper, with one word on it "Fool".
When he started his sermon he prefaced his remarks by saying that he frequently received long and interesting letters from friends, who in their haste to write much and tell him lots often forgot to sign their names. (Is that my case?)

Then he continued and said that this morning he received a peculiar letter. It bore no message. All it contained was the name of the writer.

Louis and his friend are in New York now and probably have phoned to you, *nicht wahr? If they will stay Monday night, it would be very nice for we could have quite a little crowd of our own. I will leave tomorrow on the 4:10 arriving at Grand Central 5:36 if on time.
Should you hear from Louis, tell him to call me tomorrow night at your house about 7 so that we can make some arrangements for New Years.

I returned from Court this morning, and had quite a strenuous day. Among the matters, were two divorces that I secured for unfortunate woman, according to their stories.
I really had thought of going to New York tonight but I have an engagement in the office and so cannot but will follow my usual custom as above stated.

I am so delighted that you did so well at the concert. Of course I knew you would, and it tickles me that you "made good".

We had a great time last night, and I've lots to tell you. I don't dare begin now because it would take too long.

Your two letters arrived together and do you know, they have better effect than a spring tonic.
I sometimes hesitate to write how glad I am, like Pollyanna, for fear that it will sound like mush.

But you know that a week is a very long time.
Mother only this morning said that you must be a very patient girl not to expect me oftener. I told her you did expect me, but what could I do about it. She said "Well, you find time for lodges, business and other things, why not for Helen?"

I think you've got the "drag" around here. Stella sprung something like that too.
And the kids ask when Aunt Helen is coming again. More toys I suppose!

With love,
I am Your
Joe (There it is)

*nicht wahr is German meaning Isn't it so?

Letter Number 2

 

Friday night about  night

My dear:

If I don't sign this letter, would it make you more angry than if I didn't write at all; assuming I have just a couple of minutes,while waiting for some men to call for me? Golly, how black the ribbon singularly got all of a sudden.

I wrote you a long letter a short while ago, but I have just read for the second time the clipping you sent the other day,and I think it so good I am returning it to you.

Old Elbert  Hubbard once said "the things that men do are usually right, their reasons for doing them,usually wrong." After reading that article, you perhaps can understand the mys­terious ways of mankind, and how impossible it would be to ask mere man to explain what he meant, when he acted in such and such a manner.

I am in the midst of drawing a set of Ordinances for Shelton, and it is some task. I have an idea that it may be necessary for me to take it along with me,and maybe Sunday night when wear alone, we can kind of work on it together. Like that brief, remember? But then,it may be finished to-night to save that trouble.

Charles had an idea that we could leave New York Sunday night, and join them in Stamford at one o'clock, and then motor to Bridgeport, you to stop at his house and we could all go up to Shelton Monday morning while the new officials ware sworn in, and the first meeting of the Board of Aldermen be held, at which these Ordinances are to be adopted. But I don't think much of it,for in the first place no party will break up that night at one, and assuming, as is likely, that they will return home at about three or four A.M. how in the world could we ever get to Shelton the next morning and look awake, and then get back to New York in the afternoon for an evening celebration, as we plan?

As Weber says "You couldn't do it." Nor will we try. It is imperative that I be in Shelton at nine in the morning, and have considerable to do that morning. My plans are therefore to leave New York on the midnight Sunday, get to Shelton in due season; and when the festivities of induction are over start back for New York and sweetheart. But it certainly shows that the folks are, thinking of you all the time; and that is what pleases me more than anything else perhaps.

'Lissen' girlie Mr. Schnee just called me on the phone and said that he expects to go down to New York tomorrow in his car leaving here at noon getting there at about three. So here is my hope. l will take the 4:10 arriving at Grand Central at 5:36. However, should I go by car, you will receive a phone call from me around eleven or twelve telling you where I'll meet you. Unless you get that call, however, I shall take the train.

It is getting late,and I have lots to do; so good night kidlets till the morrow.

Your Joe
Joe (for the last letter)

And so ends the letters Joe wrote Helen in 1916 and we move on to 1917 as they prepare for their June wedding.

The next letter is January 2, 1917

December 27, 1916 - I'll take the oath of office for the following positions, Corporation Counsel, City Attorney, and Justice of the Peace.

As you can see from the title of this post Joe was very busy in establishing himself in the Connecticut legal community. Glad he kept his sense of humor thru it all. Notice the signature or lack of one at the end of the letter. This is not the last we will hear of that.

Wednesday noon.

My thweetheart:

This is as Barnet would say it. And speaking of Barnet reminds me that I have added another accomplishment to those Stella told you about. Whether it will be of any interest is another matter. It is this, Stella asked that I take Barnet out and get him a haircut at my barber's. So I did it yester­day. The kid was so fussy and moved around so, that I had to hold him in the chair and hold his little bean steady, with the result that he got a real Buster Brown hair cut.

And yesterday afternoon Stella was out shopping, and took Barnet and Myra along. Can you imagine little Myra coming down the long hall dressed up exactly like the doll Aunt Helen gave her except that she wore blue, and with a shape a la Joe Weber. I almost said a la Uncle Joe, but didn't dare. She was lugging her baby (babby she says it) under her little chubby arm. The rest of the toys were in the car. Lucile is still at home with her cold and was not in the party that went to "gamma's" for the toys. They bothered all morning so Stella packed up the two and started out to get them. Stella will probably (this ought to be a new paragraph) write you; when I mentioned it to her, she said that between her being sick herself, and Lucile's illness, and her Charitable Society she was far behind in her social correspondence. Barnet volunteered to write, and I would not be surprised that he would paint a letter to you in his own peculiar sanscript.

I received a post card from a man in Shelton this morning
offering to sell his house to me. Doesn't it sound good?

But that is not all. In the first place he expects to move out next summer or fall; and in the second place he offers it to ma because he heard I was looking for a house, and wants to sell it to give me a chance to make an investment, offering to lease it from me. But the best part of the joke, for that is all that I consider it, is that knowing the house, and its location, and also its make-up, I think that with some very material repairs and considerable painting, it might do very nicely for a garage, but there are a few too many rooms. No dearie, when I get some place to live in, it may not be the equal of the mansion you really deserve, but it will be as nearly as we can find it, a pretty little home where we can be happy and have some of the comforts that we ought to expect to make up happy and contented. And, would you believe it, I am optimist enough to think that something like that is imminent, and very soon? Yizzir.

What did you think of those cartoons I sent to you? I had an idea of doing the same to-day but the artist wasn't there with the punch enough to make me laugh, so I'll wait.

I saw Mr. Kneen this morning, and was informed that the officials appointed by him will be duly sworn in next Monday at ten A.M. After that there, will be a very short meeting of the Board of Aldermen and then I'll be ready to start for New York.

Thinking of being sworn in reminds me that I'll take the
oath of office for the following positions, Corporation Counsel, City   Attorney, and Justice of the Peace.

Last night Doctor Rosen was unanimously elected president of our Bnai Brith Lodge, to succeed me, for the ensuing year. Charles was elected as one of the three delegates to the District Grand Lodge meeting to be held at Buffalo next February,

Louis will be in New York at a physician's convention or a surgeon's convention, I don't know which, this week end, and I think I'll have him stop at the Club to give the boy a taste of regular New York Club life. He and his cousin Louis Shapiro, the young doctor that called on us, will perhaps be together, and unless they have made other plans, do you think it would be a good idea to have them up for Monday? Of course, I haven't talked to Louis about it, not having seen him for a few days.

Yesterday I sent a booklet to Abe, and think that he will probably like it. It's like one that I carry.  Do you want one, too?

Judge Wilder, did you meet him while here? just called and is waiting for me to go out to dinner, so will close at this point. With kindest regards and love and all the sweet things that usually go with it,
I am
Your

The next letters will be on December 29

December 26, 1916 - Boys will be boys, wont they?

Here is a quick not that Joe sneaked into his work day. Much more to come this week.

Tuesday.

My lil girl:

Boys will be boys, wont they? I feel that since I have s couple of minutes to spare, like writing you a letter again, but since one went this noon, perhaps it would be better to save this till tomorrow and then mail it to keep one coming daily, so to speak. But I shall not do it. This will go out at once, and if I have a minute I'll write again, providing there is something new to add.

Returning from Shelton this morning with a friend, in his Cadillac, he gently told me that he almost had good news last week; that a certain man connected with the Ordnance Company moved away to New York, and the same moment another party moved in. Be said that it was not a new house by any means but that it was some place where we could hang out until the right place turned up; but even that is only a passing mist. It shows that some of my friends are keeping us in mind, and are working while we know not anything about it.

I will try this afternoon, by getting in touch with one or two people who might be in a position to give me a lift, to find out if they are on to any house of flat, and if so, you know what will happen.

A gentleman just came in with some witnesses for a case, that I am to try, and I must now stop and begin to prepare.

It's only one sheet this time, but every little bit helps. With some more love and kisses, I am Your Joe
Maybe two Louiss (is that right?) will be over next Monday.

The next letter is December 27

December 21, 1916 - Oh, la, la! It's 2:20 and your letter has just come.

Continuing to keep the holiday plans going. Short and sweet. Looking at a new house already. I bet Helen, the city girl, was happy.

December 21, 1916
My darling,

I presume you wrote me yesterday, but since I don't expect it to arrive till a week or two hence, I'm not surprised at it's absence.

Yesterday, for the first time in ages, I was down with the cold good and proper. I had several appointments that I had to keep and kept them but it's a beauty.
Oh, la, la! It's 2:20 and your letter has just come. Wait, I'll read it.

As your father would say, that's some letter. I think I've got a steno again. It will surely relieve a lot of extra work to have an additional girl.

And girlie, do you know I spent all morning looking at a new house that will be completed within a month or so, and that some one has a prior option on it? If he don't want it, I want, if he wont take it you can bet two shakes of Tommy's tail, I will.

Then I've heard of another; and am trailing it. What do you think of it?
Maybe I can make the news a real Christmas offering; I hope so.

I'll take your advice and go to bed early. That right hand of mine is simply rushing pell mell* along so if I cannot be understood, take the letter to a laundry.

My plans are, for Saturday, as I expected. I'll probably leave 4:10 or 4:36 and get to your house around "eats" time.

In the meantime, dear, take good care of that cold of yours.
With heaps of love, I am
Your
Joe

* pell mell means in a confused or disorderly manner.

The next letter will be on December 22

December 19, 1916 - Believe me, I’d like to take a trip around the world with you

Here is a letter where Joe and Helen are working out plans for New Years Eve. Very chatty today.

December 19, 1916.­­­
Dearest girlie:
I received your long letter this morning, and know that you have been patiently awaiting mine in vain today; but this will undoubtedly reach you before nightfall today, and perhaps in a slight way make up for its absence this morning.

Yesterday was the hardest that I ever saw. My but there were several brain-racking problems to solve that kept me busy in Shelton alone till almost the whole day went by. And upon my arrival at Bridgeport at 4:30 I found several witnesses waiting for me to try a case that finished the afternoon, and immediately I met Mr. Kneen and several others at 6 at the Stratfield and went to a Past Masters Dinner and annual meeting that kept me till near twelve. When could I write? Do you know that I got a shave, by actual time, from 6:14 to 6:23 yesterday. You ought to see the fine collection of scratches on my physiog now as a result; but it's my fault, I suppose.

My plans for the week end this week are to get to New York Saturday afternoon about 5:36, as usual sometimes, and stay over till Monday night, and mayhap Tuesday morning. How's that? Too long, think you?

Of course Monday afternoon we'll see the Opera or hear it, which is correct?, and I have no other plans at present, except to leave it to your judgment. You see my reason is a good one. Yesterday morning when I went to Shelton, the cars were stalled for about half an hour in the morning (near 7:30) which means that I eat in the cold, and then for another hour or two, because the power  was weak, dragged along in an icy car, so that I have one of the sweetest and cutest colds you ever saw. You are not to blame for this in the least, sitting a couple of hours in a very draughty car that has its windows all frozen up, and where it seems that the atmosphere is worse inside than out by far, is a good way to get a cold. There are no cuss words on the typewriter so cannot express my feelings the way the occasion would seem to justify it.

Tomorrow, I have a meeting of the special committee to arrange for our Bar Banquet for February, at five o’clock, and don't know just when we'll get through. It's a sure thing that I cannot get away till around six, and that would get me into New York somewhere by eight, if the trains are running on time. Do you think I should make it? I'll think it over and see how matters develop; and if the opportunity presents itself, I’ll run down to the big city to see my little girl.

As for New Year, that is another problem. As I have already told you, I am expected at Shelton on the first at ten o’clock. There is a train out of New York Monday morning at about 7:40 that gets to Bridgeport about 9:18 and to Derby about 9:40 to get me over the River in time; but I'd have to stay at the Club in order to make a train that early. And I really feel that I'd probably return to New York for the rest of the day, what do you know of it? Or do you think that I should rather leave Sunday night as usual, and so not rush, and come back Monday afternoon for the day? The idea to eat the New Year meal or whatever you call it in your house is not a bad idea at all. One thing sure, we would have real good food, a real homelike party, and all the fun we could make, perhaps without the usual bunch of drunks that you'll run into at any kind of a celebration on such occasions; but I'll try anything like the party you suggest once, and will the arrangements in your hands. Whatever will please you will make me happy, so go to it. If you would rather go out, I'm satisfied, but talk it over with the folks, and decide and I'll probably see you in a day or two and we can then go over the matter; but if it requires immediate action for tickets etc. why you are well qualified to attend to it. Believe me, I’d like to take a trip around the world with you beginning at once, but it cannot be done now, so why should a little thing like a New Year's celebration bother me?

The clippings are fine especially the underscored parts, and I'll read them over again this evening, though I saw them already.

Do you notice that the keys sometimes look blurred? It is because I am thinking of so much to say that my fingers cannot write fast enough and sometimes (too frequently) three or four keys will jump up at once and get stuck together, which makes me grit my teeth, and utter your rather now usual expression of dissatisfaction.

Mr. Kneen suggested that he is going to Boston tomorrow on City matters, and inquired whether I had the day open. He would probably leave on the midnight train, but is not certain himself
as yet, so that I do not see how I can get away this time of the year unless it is urgent.

I shall try this afternoon, if I have a few moments, to see what's what about a house in Shelton again. I think and talk considerably about it, and try to land something, but so far have nothing very tangible. Isn't it peculiar? I'll get mad pretty soon, and then-well, maybe I'll get one without getting mad.

Rather a long letter for Tuesday; but you deserve it.

I'm awfully hungry and will go out to lunch now, and inci­dentally, mail this letter to you.

With heaps of love and kisses, till I see you again, I am
Your
Joe

The next letter is December 21

December 15, 1916 - Your letter this morning was simply gree-and.

Joe was able to write a letter while waiting for the train to leave the station in New Haven, mail it and be confident that Helen would receive it Friday night or early Saturday morning in New York. No priority mail or overnight; just 2 cents. And the stationary is priceless. It is so fragile that I had to use archival tape to hold the pages together.

En route to Hartford Friday the 15th 1916
Sweetheart Helen,

Your letter this morning was simply gree-and. And the letter to Hubbard was a cuckoo too! I'd laugh if he published it, under a heading, say, "The way we like to loose subscribers." Or maybe, he'll tell you to keep the book as his present. Old Elbert Hubbard would, believe me, and he would have added a word that would make your heart leap with joy.

I am on the way to Hartford. We are in New Haven now, and am trying to get this letter under headway before the train leaves, so that my writing will be legible.
I finished my day's work in Court at 12 and just got to the station in time for the 12:18. It was a few minutes late, so I borrowed this paper and envelope form one of the men at the depot, because I couldn't get any writing material for love or money then; and unless I got this out now, you wouldn't hear from me.

The blizzard is on in great shape. I'll be in New York tomorrow (Saturday) at 5:36 as usual.
I may try to get down earlier, along about two, but am not sure at all . In case I might arrive earlier, leave word home where you are, if not there, so that I can get in touch with you.
But don't figure on anything except the 5:36 and if it's pleasant, will you meet me.

The train is about to leave so will mail this.

Lots of love,
Joe

December 11, 1916 - Really, dear, the sun is brighter than I ever saw it.

Well I guess Joe was happy to have Helen and her family visit him at his mother's home in New Haven, CT. His affections are flowing.

Monday near noon
My darling girl,

Yesterday seems to me to be only a dream. Were you actually here, or am I dreaming. Were the folks really in Bridgeport, or did eat too much and am having a pleasant snooze?
It seems too good to be true. Really, dear, the sun is brighter than I ever saw it. You know why? Just because, when you left, you looked so happy for the first time that day, that it made up for your old blues and chills.

I have conferences on in Shelton tonight and so am writing now, in the additional hope that this may reach you today.

Tomorrow night is lodge night, but will try and write during the day; but I'm going to New York Wednesday, sure; a different sure than one I received last week from a sweet "lil" lassie.

You know, I had quite a smile to myself, when your father returned from his journey with Charles and Doctor yesterday prior to their pinochle or whatever it may be. He came over to me, looked squarely into those deep green eyes, and said "say boy, you're some guy". I wondered what he actually thought before. I would give my little whip - as Lauder says it - to have been on the conversation homeward bound.

Your mother liked my mother's house quite some, she said. It's too bad it was late, isn't it?

Well, tomorrow is coming, and then Wednesday. "Time, oh, time, in thy flight, make me a boy again just for that night." With lots of love & kisses & hopes that you're well

I am your,
Joe

I am always amazed how Joe quoted from his memory, as seen in this letter where he quoted from the poem "Rock me to Sleep, Mother" by Elizabeth Chase Allen.

The next letter is on December 15.

December 7, 1916 - Motoring in a Cadillac

Here is a letter giving detail of some of his work plans. I guess he liked to let her know everything that was going on.

Thursday
My darling,
I have just received your long letter and clippings; and as you know it is unnecessary to make any comments on them.

I have concluded my little journeys for a little while. Last evening Mr. Keen and I went to Winsted 80 or 90 miles from here, motoring in a Cadillac. And would you believe it, when we struck the Berkshires, it was snowing pretty fast? The old fashioned snow storms had arrived; but on our return, found the moon and stars out here in all the nocturnal glory (some splash!).
How delighted I was to hear that you are to be here Sunday. Tonight, over the soup plate (I could say tea-cups, but why should I?) I will ascertain just when you should land here, and will write, so that we can all come back together.

In the meantime, I expect to leave Saturday on the 4:10 as usual; ready for the "Opry".
Regarding Spero's note, I agree with you that our Sundays are pretty well taken up till Christmas, and it would be advisable if you wrote to them to that effect; perhaps add that we might, if we got the chance drop in on them, but a little later would inform them when we'd be able to see them.

"Listen" sweetheart. One of my old fashioned long journeys seems imminent. It has begun to show itself in the last few days. It is very likely that I may have to go to the Canadian borders within a week or ten days. But I'll tell you all about my plans when I see you. It'll be a flying trip, mainly spent in going and coming. And do you know, a little secret, it's been so long since I've been on trains for days at a time, that it seems almost fascinating to just look forward to it. But hardship now will be to think of you in little old New York, waiting, peacefully waiting, for my return.Mother is getting along very well, though she is still in the house, taking very good care of herself.

Do you know, dear, that I feel terribly sorry I couldn't write yesterday, but things came so thick and fast; and really nothing of any consequence either, that just stopped or blocked me from writing.

Clara is alone at the office and has her hands full. Still looking , or rather again looking for a shorthand typer.

With heaps of love from
Your
Joe

The next letter will be on December 11.

December 5, 1916 - Girlie, you were so grand last Sunday.

A quick note at the end of what sounds like a busy day.

Tuesday
My darling,
I couldn't write yesterday, as you can probably imagine.
To start with mother is getting along pretty well, tho she has a very bad cold. She was in bed yesterday, but is up today.

Last night we went to Waterbury, and had a wonderful time. And I delivered that talk, inspired by your comment that it was flowery. Bull-iere me, I talked as though inspired; I'm told. So much so that I've promised a return date soon. Tonight at Derby, tomorrow night at Winsted. Girlie, you were so grand last Sunday, that everything looked different. I was so glad and happy that it radiated all around. Some of my friends remarked about my glee. See what you did?

I have several matters that are demanding immediate attention, so can't write the long letter that I want to now.
I'll try again later in the day.

Charles is yelling for me to go for dinner so must hurry.

Love & Kisses,
from your,
Joe

The next letter is December 7

December 1, 1916 - . . . feel the warm breath and cold hands that always thrill me.

Here is a fun letter to start off December. This is a month filled with letters. So let's dive in.

December 1,1916.

My lil angel:

Last night I started out for the Club and the Turkish bath there in but when I arrived, I discovered that it was 3:40 XYZM. Of course, the subway does not run very often at that time, and so I had a very pleasant wait at the station, entertained by several drunks who should have made four or five trips for the load they were trying to carry. But the best part was their unanimity in thought and action, for when one started to sing one song they all chimed in, and it pre­sented similar music to that we were entertained with earlier in the day. This much is confidential, and should not be disclosed.

Then they started to jig, and do fancy dances; and at this time a couple of jolly tars from one of the battleships, all lit up arrived and enthusiastically joined the festivities. The Winter Garden never had a show like that then enacted. It was worth staying up all night for, but suddenly a minion of the law arrived and "busted up the show” as one newsy put it. My what a blue coat and twelve brass buttons can do sometimes. But I guess it was for the best for several times the actors almost fell off the platform, and might have tried to have a race with the train if the opportunity availed itself.

Enough about drunks. Now about myself; what's the idea do you ask? Well, three o'clock this morning (the folks landed home about 11,for they made the trip back in forty seven minutes) mother started a young riot by getting up Clara and Louis, and finally calling up Charles, thereby waking everybody (look I’m slipping again) to find out where I was, and why she had not heard from me. You know she expected that you would return, and naturally that I would spend the night at her house, while you were at Stella's, and not hearing from any one all night assumed as all mothers have done from the creation and will continue till doomsday (you included I fear) that we were run over or ditched or spilled out or heaven only knows the extent and limit where mothers stop conjuring up all kinds of dire forebodings, instead of giving one the benefit of the doubt, and assuming that no news is good news, and that all is well. However, the whole house was up.

But as I started out saying, when I landed at the Club it was so late that I simply tumbled into bed, and left a call for 7. Sure enough at 7 the call came and I made the 7:51 arriving in Bridgeport at 9:18. Isn't that just grand? as Florence would say it.

You cannot imagine how happy I am since I found my old Helen yesterday. And then how fortunate too, that I could take you home, and be able to hear you actually talk, instead of reading, and actually hold you instead of thinking about it, and feel the warm breath and cold hands that always thrill me. Ah, boy, that's the life. I would like to get to bed early to night, but don't think so. How­ever, in order to give Charles a lift to clean up as much as possible this week's work, yesterday being a holiday, would you mind if I took the 4:10 arriving around 5:30. If you want me to stay with Cousin Clara, you might tell her that we’ll arrive at her house 'about six, otherwise just call up the Yale Club and tell them to reserve a room for me for tomorrow night (Saturday) and that I'll arrive about 5:30. I understand that you'll meet me at the station, and that itself would be sufficient cause for my rushing to New York, if no more. But the fact that I'll actually be with you till Sunday is simply wonderful.

I had thought of leaving here early enough to arrive in time for a matinee at the Metropolitan, but we haven't a new girl yet so cannot get away conveniently in the morning.

But, when I arrived at the office this morning, I found a young lady waiting for me, sent by one of the business colleges, and understand that she is qualified for the work. I wanted her to start at once but she preferred next Monday, because she did not want to leave her other position in the middle of the week, though she had given notice that she would leave last Saturday, so she said. So that if she materializes and shows adaptability for her duties, that will release me oftener than now, and I'll be able to hear Caruso Saturday afternoons more often, and of course you know who'll be sitting at my right on such auspicious occasions. I read a nice article in this morning's World or Times about the special performance of Manon Lescaut, particularly complimenting the new soprano and telling about the warmth with which Caruso sings about the cold, little, white hands. Rather paradoxical.

You know that there are several dentists on our floor here, well, a few minutes ago, I saw a man leave one with a large "hunk" of plaster on his cheek or rather jaw on the same side as your dad's. And his face was so swollen. And he smelled of the same ointments also. Poor chap, he also a veteran of the war, at least that is the way he looked with his face all plastered up.

I hope you get good seats for next week. I will wait patiently for tomorrow's train, and you at the terminal.

With love to the folks and of course to yourself 

I am Your Joe

The next letter is December 5.

November 28, 1916 - Take along a bag containing enough duds until Sunday night; for my collars wont fit you.

Here is a letter from the next day which is fairly long. I guess he had a lot to say to his sweet Helen.

November 28,1916.
My dear;

That letter of yours sounded simply wonderful. What a change one day can make. I was sure that the strange girl I saw on Sunday who looked somewhat like you and dressed the same, though living in your house and parading around under your colors really wasn't you at all, and that she would beat it very soon.

What on earth did you do to her? I hate to tell you what I felt like doing. And what a joke on me, to think that you had caught cold, when, as you now say your eyes were filled with tears and you were ready to explode any minute. What about? What were those trifles that you generally smile at, that looked so tragic Sunday? Better not say anything about it, unless you want to.
I can expect a pretty good laugh tomorrow when I get your letter commenting on my two of yesterday. I believe I'd like to see them again. Maybe I'd say something a little different. But then Charles Wesley said once that he never felt so badly or blue in his life but that it passed off in half an hour, and that was why he was so successful from every standpoint. I guess our friend Elbert Hubbard said the same thing, more epigrammatically.

That engagement that Mr. Kneen made for me for Wednesday night is positive. There is no way out. Business of importance will be transacted, plans for the new officers recently elected to take over the reins of government in a few weeks in a smooth manner, without any delays or interruptions, will be discussed, so as to have everything in readiness, and the new ship launched without any hitches, if possible.

As Borough Counsel, I have been requested to appear at the meeting, to give them the benefit of my services; and I have stated to-day(in response to a letter and a phone call)that I would be there. Isn't it too bad that such things cannot be seen a week ahead, but then, you remember that play that said something about the best laid plans of mice and men.

That gets us down to brass tacks. We are to be in Stam­ford Thursday; and I believe that the best train for you to take would be the 12:03 noon train out of Grand Central for Stamford arriving there at l2:55. I'll see you at the depot in Stamford.

The folks expect to leave here about the same time you leave New York, and will undoubtedly call at the station for you. Be careful that you take the train that makes a stop at Stamford for there is one just a minute or two ahead of it that runs clear through to New Haven without a stop. And the train I mentioned leaves Grand Central but does not stop at 125th Street. Note that.

This typewriter is all out of kilter. The letters fall anywhere they want, and while the others are being used, I take a whack at this, to write at least a legible if not an intelligent letter. You will thus understand that this machine rather than the writer is a little off its trolley.
Of course, you will take along a bag containing enough duds until Sunday night; for my collars wont fit you. And while I am writing the folks can leave on Sunday morning (that includes Florence, Lillian-ha ha how that sounds- and Abe) either 10:03 or 10:50, the former arriving about 11:30 the latter about 12:18. We can talk it over later and write them Friday.

I'll be waiting for you at the Stamford station Thursday morning at 12:55 or whenever that train is due to arrive. I would like to go down to New York to get you; but the morning trains are so far apart that it would mean leaving very early, and having little time other than to get to your house and start back; and remembering that I have a long session on for Wednesday night, you will agree that this does not seen to be practical.

It’s easy to see that when we get to Shelton we wont be very lonesome, according to the dates you are making. In fact I have received several invitations from my friends to the effect that they thought it would be a good stunt for them to spend a week or so maybe during the summer in the country with us; but I don't bite that easy. But with Florence, Lillie, mother, in fact any of the folks,we'11 be sore if they don't come, wont we? Good for them; but remember, tell your father, that he has a. few friends here who are anxious to see him perform. He'll have all the comforts of home, and then some, for we'll let him play pinochle, if he likes till we'll all take our wee deoch and doris. How about it?

I really feel so good since that letter of your arrived, that I can hardly write; I feel so joyful.

Last night reading **White Hyacinths I found a paragraph where the "marster" as Cousin Clara might have called him, said that the thing that made him love Alice so devotedly more than any other thing was the fact that he never could tell what she would do next, or how she would think of the next problem, yet he was invariably certain that the way she would act or think would be a sweet, gracious, and noble one, and would inspire him to do likewise. Their quarrels, he said, were paper mache, and the only remembrance he has of any is the fact that they had none that lasted over
a few minutes, and then concerning a *piffle. To their life, he alluded, no dark clouds ever cast their shadows, the sun was always in the ascendant.

Remember that this is pretty good philosophy to bear in mind.

And we are .going to be able to say just a little more than that, for we'll profit by their example, and cut out even the *piffles. We are here for so short a time, no matter how long it may seem in actual years, and have so much to do for ourselves and others, that it is a pity to waste time thinking of trifles, and pouting over an empty nothing, without a local habitation or a name-as Willie said some four hundred years ago, more or less.

In the olden days the priest raised his hands and the sun stood still in his course. When he lowered them it sank. So he had men hold up his hands when he got tired. That's a good picture. Why can't we figuratively have our hands lifted to better things thereby keeping the brilliant sunshine pour into our lives, as you so beauti­fully described it in your letter today?

I think this a good place to stop. Why? Because Elbert said "the best place to stop talking is just before you tell all you know".

Your mother's finger is well on its way to recovery, and so is your dad's jaw, I hope.
I'm going out to see Barnet and the kiddies tonight for a few minutes, after which I have a Bnai Brith meeting.

With lots of love, from Joe

*piffle means nonsense as idle talk or nonsensical

** White Hyacinths was a book written by Elbert Hubbard in 1907

The next letter is December 1