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I could never tell you how deeply happy your letter about Claude3 made me. I think it's awfully hard to ge get a
detached attitude toward material ome knows so well as you do much of that, and it's a great comfort to me to
km know that it does not jar on you. Sometme I would like to te tell you how that story grew.
I am having a lovely two weeks here4. all the people are so kind and sympathetic. There are a dozen or more young college men who are like a band of pages im waiting,- ready to do anything. They dash down the moumtains twelve miles t to the village to get denatured alcohol for my tea machine, or up the mountains into the wild gorges to get rare orchid for me. One of them has given me his lovely little log cabi cabin to work in, and his Corona5, which as yet I cannot use very successfully.
The lectures do take a good deal out of meKK somehow
I can do nothing easily, but the people are so appreciative. At the end of the first
evening lecture the Dean of the school6. a
young Proferror of Literature7 from Amherst, another fro, Holyoke8 and one from
Oberlin9 really were in tears. sure enough tears. They came up to me
and said they had never heard anything said on Literature that had so moved and
uplifted them. The Amherst man said "it was just music, golden music". Edith10 had an amusing time because some of them came
at her with such gems as "She looks so handsome when she speaks, her head is like
sculpture. she becomes another being" etc. It is pleasant, and wearing. to give
people intense pleasure. One must not do it often.
Dear Mother11, you would be pleased if you knew
what a constant comfort the big gray wolly scarf you sent me at Christmas time is
to
my neuritis back. I carry it with heme everywhere, and if a cold
breeze comes up it saves me. I had it dies a lovely orange-henna color before I left New
York12, as the gray tint was hard and unbecomming.
Do let me know what you decide about staying at home13, this winter, or not staying, just as soon as you know yourself, dear sister.
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