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Conger Reynolds correspondence, August 1918
1918-08-19 Daphne Reynolds to Conger Reynolds Page 5
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The pictures we took Sunday at Ernest's are pooty good. I'll send you some in case Mother R- comes over and has a look at them first. If they are not in this envelope, they'll be in tomorrer's. (I love that word!!) I've seen the prettiest house here that I ever saw before in all my world. Perhaps you've seen it - built by a contractor, I believe, out of gay colored stones. It's just a short way from here; we drove past it on Sunday. It could to be awful stylish. I leaned out and almost upset the Ford when we passed it, but Ernest didn't mind. He has a weakness for that same house. Are those pictures you all took in the Vosges ever coming? Probably not. Lan', the way I have to wait on you is scan'lous. Last night we walked to town and et some ice cream sodys. I wish you'd hurry up and end the war so we can have good ice cream again. On the way to town Fred caught me with that old gag about passing a law forbidding chauffers to hold out their arm to designate their direction - because of the number of Fords that run up their sleeves. Coises! I have to write Macetta. Think I'll indulge in a little silent prayer until
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The pictures we took Sunday at Ernest's are pooty good. I'll send you some in case Mother R- comes over and has a look at them first. If they are not in this envelope, they'll be in tomorrer's. (I love that word!!) I've seen the prettiest house here that I ever saw before in all my world. Perhaps you've seen it - built by a contractor, I believe, out of gay colored stones. It's just a short way from here; we drove past it on Sunday. It could to be awful stylish. I leaned out and almost upset the Ford when we passed it, but Ernest didn't mind. He has a weakness for that same house. Are those pictures you all took in the Vosges ever coming? Probably not. Lan', the way I have to wait on you is scan'lous. Last night we walked to town and et some ice cream sodys. I wish you'd hurry up and end the war so we can have good ice cream again. On the way to town Fred caught me with that old gag about passing a law forbidding chauffers to hold out their arm to designate their direction - because of the number of Fords that run up their sleeves. Coises! I have to write Macetta. Think I'll indulge in a little silent prayer until
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