Sunday [29 June 1913]

Dear Husband:--

I wish you were here today. Any day is better than Sunday to do without you, as I was so accustomed to being with you on Sundays--both before and after. Ha! Ha! And every time I love you more, you darling boy.

It is so very warm today, so I'll not write a long letter. I didn't recieve a letter from you yesterday and I was so disappointed, as it was Sat. and I knew I couldn't ge a letter till Monday, but I am looking for a good, long letter then. Of course, as I told you in my other letter, I'll pardon you for not writing letters whil you are in Little Rock. Anna thought that was very funny about the pebble on the beach. It reminded me of the poetry about the beaches and the ancient peaches. Perhaps you have heard it.

They sat alone upon the beach
she was a somewhat ancient peach.
She shut her eyes this ancient miss,
Thinking he would steal a kiss.
But his was unheroic clay
And so he only stole away.

Now isn't that clever? I am almost as practical as Rev. Jones, Am I not?

I was with Ray and Lovey a while at Band Concert Friday evening, but it was so fierce for you not to be with us, that I believe I'll stay home next time. They never said anything about the pictures. I'd rather they would say something firs. I saw Maida Cole also on Fri. eve. She was with some of her relatives, but she side-tracked long enough to whisper to me that I looked lonesome. She surely knew what she was talking about. But I am doing the best I can to brace.

This is all I'll write this time.

Your loving wife,
Clara

Papa and Mamma send love. Mamma says to tell you to never get discouraged--that the world wasn't made in one day. Ha! Ha!