Dear, I thought I’d drop a line.
The weather’s cool.
The folks are fine.
I’m in bed each night at nine.
P.S., I love you.
Yesterday we had some rain, but all in all, I can’t complain.
Was it dusty on the train?
P.S., I love you.
Write to the Browns just as soon as you’re able; they came around to call.
I burnt a hole on the dining room table, and, let me see, I guess that’s all.
Nothing left to tell you, dear, except each day seems like a year.
Everybody’s thinking of you.
P.S., I love you.
