BY-WAYS - 10/7/48 - Virge visits from Spokane WA - Saturday, Oct. 2

Greetings, my friends!

Haven't had a visit with you for two weeks. I tried very hard to compose a letter to you last Saturday. But how could I compose a letter in the excitement of the arrival of our son Virgil from Spokane, Washington, after an absence of 4-1/2 months? Besides, we had Dianne with us over the week-end; and an energetic two-year-old is guaranteed to keep you from getting any writing done. Especially if she has a penchant for antiques. No casualties YET. Just a word of explanation about Virgil, Jr. - for those who are interested. He is thoroughly sold on Washington climate, and thought he wanted to go to college out there. But the cost of living is too high for anyone who has to pay room rent and eat out. They say that Spokane is one of the most expensive spots in the country. So we persuaded him to come back home. He is enrolled in Cleveland College; Charlie is home this week-end from Kent State U. What do our college boys, our erudite Doctor of Divinity (Dr. Phillips) and our student of political science (Virgil, Sr.) talk about? BASEBALL! Well, naturally, everybody in Cleveland is talking about baseball at this exciting time. Honestly, the nerve strain has us all worn out.

Yesterday evening, at supper-time, Dr. Phillips came in by the back door, sobbing and moaning, wiping the "tears" away with a clean, but very ragged dust cloth. The Detroit Tigers had just whipped our Indians, 5 to 3, at such a crucial moment in our pennant race. The terrible things Virgil and Dr. P. said about those "mean, snaggle-tooth old Tigers"! Dr. P., a bit of a pessimist at heart, sighed and said, "I give up." But Virgil's Johnny bull came to the fore, and he replied, "No, sir, I bet the Indians lick the pants off the Tigers tomorrow." And sure enough, they did! Well - we'll see who battles the Boston Braves next Wednesday. And I'll be glad when the season is over, and we can have a meal that isn't all cluttered up with baseball.

I have many things to say to you. But will you wait until next week? I beg your indulgence at this busy canning season. But now the canning time is nearly gone. And I'll be with you next week- with a longer letter.

With the best of luck on your Fall Library drive,

Ever your friend,
Florence B. Taylor.

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