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Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

This is an extra letter in the middle of the month because I'm rather lonely tonight. 

It's awfully stormy. All the lights are out on the campus, but I drank black coffee and I can't go to sleep.

I had a supper party this evening consisting of Sallie and Julia and Leonora Fenton— and sardines and toasted muffins and salad and fudge and coffee. 

Julia said she'd had a good time, but Sallie stayed to help wash the dishes.

I might, very usefully, put some time on Latin tonight but, there's no doubt about it, I'm a very languid Latin scholar. 

We've finished Livy and De Senectute and are now engaged with De Amicitia (pronounced Damn Icitia).

Should you mind, just for a little while, pretending you are my grandmother? 

Sallie has one and Julia and Leonora each two, and they were all comparing them tonight. 

I can't think of anything I'd rather have; it's such a respectable relationship. 

So, if you really don't object— When I went into town yesterday, I saw the sweetest cap of Cluny lace trimmed with lavender ribbon. 

I am going to make you a present of it on your eighty-third birthday.

That's the clock in the chapel tower striking twelve. I believe I am sleepy after all. 

Good night, Granny.

I love you dearly. Judy