May 10, 1917 - Hope that life remains one sweet song to you.

Here is a letter written in 3 stages. The closer the wedding day come the more he writes. That I suppose is a good sign. Here are a few photos I found on line for the restaurants that Charles, Stella and friends went to on their trip to NYC for two shows in one day on Broadway.

 Where they had lunch.

Where they had dinner.

May 10,1917.

Dear lil girl:
Once-again to-day am I taking my pen in hand-so to speak-and taking a couple of minutes of your time. I feel like talking to you, and for want of a better medium, appeal to the paper.
The folks returned from New York reporting a big time.

They dined at Lorber's at noon, and at Rector’s in the evening, returning on the eleven fifteen. They saw The Willow Tree, and also Disraeli. And as typical yokels might say, they had the time of their young lives. While they undoubtedly enjoyed themselves, it wasn't according to my ideas of a good time, nor yours by any means. On a bright afternoon like yesterday, I should have pre­ferred an auto drive up the river banks to see the beautiful scenery this time of the year, not spend the whole day in doors from the theatre to the dining table and back to the theatre to the table again. In describing the wonderful trip at Niagara, our old friend used to say that it reminded him of how many people got along, by the gorge route.     But it takes many tastes to make up the world.

I was given a suggestion to-day about a little journey. Here it is for what it is worth. I was told to go to the White Mountains, to the “Fabian” (actually Fabyan House) house in Bretton Woods, where many of the New York people of class spend their summers. That would include a trip to Portland, Portsmouth, Boston, Providence and New London. I'm neutral; just telling you what was suggested, that's all.

I must run along now and do some work, but I think that this letter will arrive to-night, while you are in Brooklyn. With some more love and kisses,
I am Your,
Joe


May l0,1917.

Dear Helen:

I was tickled to little pieces, and several fat ones, when I saw your letter this morning; especially because it had the funniest Goldberg clipping ever, tho I am not minimizing your letter by any means. I am of course glad that you are out enjoying yourself; and hope that life remains one sweet song to you; and as you know I shall try to do all I can along that line. Under the circumstances, it looks as if you are a traveling lady yourself; getting from Mount Vernon to Brooklyn and back to New York again.

I was so tired last night and all in that I did not really get at writing you a line, but we had quite a talk on the wire, and that helps a little bit, doesn't it?

I am just a wee bit worried, this morning I found two lumps on the back of my neck, near my shirt-collar-band, and tho I immediately painted them with iodine and alcohol, they are rather large and painful, and I am suspicious of boils. But, I sent a riot call to New Haven for Louis, and he will fix them up all right, whatever they are, and if he doesn't show up to-day I'll go to a regular doctor. You know me, all the time looking out for myself at least physically.

I have a slight hunch that I'll get to New York Friday, but at the same time, there are several cases here that Charles has made tentative arrangements to have the witnesses come in that night, and if they do, of course, pop goes the weazel with my trip.

Miss Reutter just returned and has many things to write, so I'll finish in longhand, as all the letters really should be written.

Do you expect some of your cousins for dinner on Sunday, or is that only "schmoose"?

Listen, good news I am actually on diet, I've been mad ever since I saw that scale, and have religiously abstained from fattening foods of all kinds. Goldberg could get an inspiration by watching me eat. Yesterday for dinner, at the Stratfield, I had clams, tomato soup, and fillet of flounder, & combination salad. Oh yes, one little slice of bread, and not another thing. I can hear you laughing, but that soup made up for a desire for bread etc. and as i get used to it will cut it "owt", too. For breakfast this morning I had a bowl of "scrawberries" a la Myra"s talk, with just about a tablespoon of cream. You can't stop all at once. And as I begin to pull in the veranda, I notice, as I've written I'm getting it in the neck.

With love and loads of kisses


I am as ever your
Joe

The next letter is May 15