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I thought you might like to see this account of the Army's first game3, and probably Charles4 will not think to send it to you—youngsters seldom do think to send things- - - they have jobs of their own to look after. Charles came to my apartment5 as soon as the game was over. I took him to Sherry's6 for dinner—it is the last really attractive restaurant left in this city2. I had reserved a table a week ago. After dinner we came back to this apartment and chatted about the world until midnight. Charles' boat with 2500 cadets aboard sailed at 12:30. I thought best not to turn a fine looking lad out on the streets of New York on a Saturday night until he had just time to catch his boat—too many vamps about. He seems very happy in his work, and he won't think of much else for awhile.
November 18th the Army plays7 Notre Dame and Charles will again be my guest. My secretary, Miss Bloom8, says that is the one game game she never misses, and that when the cadets stand at attention during the National Anthem9 she always weeps! I would like to see that game, but if I taxi-ed out six miles to the Polo grounds, fought my way through struggling crowds, and wept, I fear I would be a pretty flat hostess to your son at six oclock.
By the way, I respect the family prejudices and never order cocktails when Charles is dining with me. I never drink them myself—don't like them—but I order them for my men friends. I think you can trust me to be a discreet hostess. I have become very fond of the lad. I surely think you and Ethel10 have been lucky in your children11!Affectionately to you both Willie
Blanchard12, the Army's white hope,
I is Charles' room mate I understand!