And now, how about a big, clear, framed picture of you?
Your
Trudy
* * * *
2643 Elm Ave.
Centerville, S. C.
July 25
Dear Amos,
No, I don’t mind if you call me your Little Bunny. I think it’s real cute and it took somebody like you to think up the term. To be honest, it makes me feel cuddly and wanted. Dear me, I’m blushing—but I can’t help feeling the way I do, can I? And I don’t care—I want you to know how I feel, because I suspect the way you feel, and my life was so drab before I wrote to you, but now it isn’t.
I certainly appreciate the picture, and you didn’t have to apologize because your hair is white and thin on top. I think your hair is just right. I looked at your picture a long time. And you know what I decided? Honest, I know that my first impression of you was correct. Those small eyes would peer deeply, but they are offset by the cute little pouches your flesh makes along the sides of your jaw. In short, I know you have real character. Nobody could take you in, no, sir! And that is the kind of friend I want with all my heart.
I’m going to place your picture right on my bureau. It will be the last thing I see each night. I’ll tell you a little secret. I think your picture is so nice, so much like you, that each night after I get into my nightie I’m going to blow a little kiss to the picture and make believe you’re beginning to care for me as I’m beginning to care for you.
Goodbye for now—darling.
Your,
Trudy
P.S. Dearest, please don’t think poorly of me if I don’t answer your next letter the very minute I get it. I have to take dear mother to Florida for a few days rest. She needs it, but I haven’t been able to afford it. We are not moneyed people. I’m just a little old southern girl who has more than money, my virtue and good name. Cousin Ruel, bless his heart, is going to drive us down. He borrowed some money. Oh, I know the value of a dollar and mother says I can squeeze a nickel until the buffalo stampedes, ha, ha. I hate to think of spending money in those hotels, but it’s all for dear mother.
* * * *
2643 Elm Ave.
Centerville, S. C.
August 15
My darling,
I write this with tears in my eyes. If there are stains on the paper, it’s from the bitterest tears I have ever shed.
How could that person have said those things about me? When the old gentleman overheard my name, he introduced himself and said a man in his home town was corresponding with a girl named Trudy Bell. What a small world, he said.
Well, I tried to treat him real nice. And he isn’t such a friend of yours as he lets on. His dirty old eyes practically took my clothes oft there in the hotel lobby, if you want the truth. And he tried to date me up. So that’s the kind of friend he is to you.
And if he said me and a boy friend was lolly-gagging and burning up the town, he was wrong. This “boy friend” was Cousin Ruel. He stayed pretty close to me because I’m just a small town girl and he said I needed protecting and I’m glad I have somebody like that. And if that old man said his inquiries revealed that Cousin Ruel was a shady small time gambler and punk and not my cousin at all, I can just say that he was speaking a falsehood. And if he said further that I didn’t have a mother in evidence, he just didn’t see her, that’s all. Dear mother stayed in her room most of the time and rested. And wasn’t that the purpose of the trip? I think that nasty old man was taking a lot on himself. He wasn’t doing all that snooping just for friendship for you either. He was mad plumb through and through because he practically drooled all over me and I wouldn’t even give him a date. I’m not interested in people like that.
My heart breaks as I think of the evil he might have done us. In you, dear Amos, I truly believed a dream had come true. I guess if I never hear from you again, I’ll at least have a short memory to treasure all my life. I just can’t write any more.
I can’t believe that you’d listen to that old man. But I guess you’ve known him longer than you have me. And the only thing I’ll ever feel for you, Amos, is what I have come to feel. I can say that at least I loved once in my life. Maybe it sounds strange. I’ve never seen you. But oh, I feel I know you. Even with this one weakness of listening to malicious gossip, I love you. I love you more than ever, because a little weakness makes you human. You seemed so perfect and strong and I was afraid I could never confess how I felt. But now that it’s all over, I can say it and I’m glad I have.
Goodbye, dearest one, and tell that old man I forgive him. I guess when a devil possesses you, you just can’t help yourself.
Once your
Trudy
* * * *
2643 Elm Ave.
August 19
Centerville, S. C.
My own Sweetheart:
Again I write with tears in my eyes, but now they’re tears of Joy. I have read your last letter until the sweet handwriting has just about been erased from the paper, ha, ha.
I had never expected to hear from you again, after what that old
