It said you missed me, and it said you loved me, and there were funny pictures of you reading the war and peace news each with a different expression, and you told me about Padrigh and how he runs down the road.

It made me very sad and homesick, but very glad to feel I was so missed.

Also you told me cheerful falsehoods about my Tribune stories.

I know they are no good, and as they are no good, the shorter the better, but I like to be told they are good.

Anyway, I sat down at once and wrote a long screed on Vera Cruz and the sleepy people that five here.
We all live on the sidewalk under the stone porch.