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“10 – And apropos of nothing, an eggbeater – – yes, an eggbeater. An eggnog makes canned milk more palatable. We can get eggs, milk, sugar, nutmeg, but not and eggbeater. I tried it without an eggbeater only this morning. The egg and I “had it out” together, during the process of which I learned that a fork is a pitiful substitute for a beater turned by a crank. I managed to incorporate the egg in the nog and thence to my interior but I cannot help feeling a trifle frustrated.”
COMMENT: And you would feel still further frustrated if you tried to find and eggbeater in the stores. They have been off the market for a year or more, but I fooled ‘em. I hunted around in the cellar among boxes of discarded kitchen utensils and there, sure enough, was a used eggbeater in operating condition. That too is now on its way to you.
“Mail service continues listless with occasional inspirations. Hence we are out of touch with home for two and three weeks at a time. There are, however, two newspapers in English printed in Paris and sold a day or two later on the new stance here – – the Daily Mail of London and New York Herald – Tribune of guess where? The French papers aren’t much more up-to-date. The —-paper is no longer a daily. The ex-editor is serving time for having collaborated with the 3rd Reich.”
And now Dan, old topper, do something for me. The girls – Jean and Marian – are so excited and interested that as soon as they read your letter that I have quoted above they immediately planned on sending Paulette a gift or so in the way of underthings that you hadn’t mentioned. These they will send in a box to you, failing P.’s address, but inside marked with her name, so you will not think the pink panties or whatever they are, are intended for you and will wear them around for a sense of loyalty to your home folks, and thus create quite as much a sensation as Lady Godiva did in her day. But, and here is where the favor comes in, I too, would like to send my new daughter something that she wants, aside from the items mentioned by you, and I want you to find out from her what this something might be so that she will think favorably of her new Dad and the fact that he has come across with something that she really wants. Maybe Paulette herself or possibly her mother or girlfriend would furnish the answer.
And now I’m about ready for bed. The only news in the local paper is announcement of the death of L.B. Mathias in his 85th year and the definite word received by his parents that Robt. Strobel has been killed in action.
Lastly, and by no means least, this letter, I hope, will reach my oldest son on or close to April 3rd, so that he may know, in case there should be any doubt, that we are again facing the day with mixed emotions, gladness that he has successfully accomplished another stage and regret that he cannot be with us. Ah, But next year!!
Tomorrow and Friday, I’ll b e posting a long letter from Lad, “Somewhere in France.”
On Saturday and Sunday, I’ll be continuing the story of Grandpa and his early life.