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I am going back to New York3 on Monday, the 11th. Don't want to go but Knopf4 begs me to come to autograph the five hundred books5 that make up his first edition6. I've had such a real rest here2, besides getting some good work done.
Now Mother dear, I want you to think a few times and let me know whether you would rather I came home7 from the middle of October to middle of November, or came for your Golden Wedding8 and spent the month of December with you. If I keep moderately well, I can do either one you say. I may have to have my appendix9 taken out before I go west but am not sure—will have an x-ray examination first. In any case I ought to be out of the hospital by October 15th.
I will come
whenever either time you prefer. If you'd
rather have me there for December, all right. Only warn
Daddy10 that he must not refer to my great age11, and he must not call
attention to the fact that I was born so long ago. Tell him to remember Judge Yieser12 at the Woodman's13
suppe supper, and how sorry we all felt for
"Miss P. D."14 when the Judge insisted on
telling her age!
I am sure you would be delighted if you knew what a comfort your woolen scarf has been to me this summer. It is about my shoulders this minute, as I sit under a pine tree on the cliffs up over the sea, writing to you. I never go to walk without it.