Eleanor Randolph Wilson McAdoo to Jessie Woodrow Wilson Sayre

Forgive this pencil and old scrap paper but I am so tired that I can't sit up at a desk and write and I want to write to you, now. We took a two mile and a half walk to-day and, while that won't seem anything to you after your record of miles of “mountain climbing” up to the last minute, it's a lot for me on a hot day! For poor, lazy me this walking business is the only thing I really mind. So I'm lying on our bully lounge, taking a little rest before Mac and I go for a drive.
You sweet angel, how happy it made me to have your darling letter, and the telegram from you and Frank on the Seventh. It was so dear of you two to send it and Mac says to thank you heaps and heaps for him, too. And your letter—so like you—so precious—made me happier than ever. It came right on time and I loved it so, and it made me simply wild to see you.
Oh, what wouldn't I give to have you here, darling sister of mine. But I know I can't—so I won't talk about it. Helen is just everything possible that is sweet and adorable and is just always doing things for me—working herself to death for me, making everything that has been made here, giving me her blessed companionship and just being altogether the most wonderful and dear person—I don't know what I ever, ever would do without her. Margie, bless her heart, worries all the time because she has so much on her hands that she can't do anything for me. As if I didn't understand! She's so sweet—I only wish she hadn't taken up so much, for she's working too hard and I want to see more of her.Jetty darling, I wish I could tell you how blessed I think it is of you to make me the adorable little dress and the petticoats. They are simply exquisite—and all the work on them fills me with awe and so much gratitude, sweetness. Think of scalloping all the bottom of the petticoat—that's a big job—I'm not doing it on mine at all! And you do it beautifully. The little dress is the lovliest little thing—I just love it and you for making it for me. Thank you with all my heart. When you must be terribly busy with all you have to do it's just so dear of you. I don't think you ought to make me another flannel petticoat. And can you really spare the white ones?—Helen says you are lending me two—you musn't unless you have no use for them now.We are getting along beautifully—everything—practically—is ready—even the baby bureau, like yours, which Margie gave me and I have trimmed. I have a beautiful little bassinette which Father gave me—I just can't wait much longer to see it occupied! I had longed for it to come on the seventh—it would be so cute if it had—but it didn't and the “symptoms” I had last week have disappeared—I'm feeling fine again. Isn't it disappointing? But, as Helen says, “I want a lot for a nickle!” Here I'm practically having a three months baby and fussing because it doesn't come sooner.I'm a “werry” large person, now but it's high time I was! I've talked quite enough about myself, now—it's time to call a halt. I believe that this a specially egotistical time—for me at least.
I was so happy that Father and the others could go up to you, for the christening. They enjoyed it so much and came back with glowing accounts of how beautiful you looked and how wonderful and cute Francis Woodrow was and all sorts of dear things about you all three.
Wasn't it funny about the grief your son showed over having to be brought before the bishop and to renounce worldly things! You'll have to watch that young man. I'm so glad that he's so well and gaining, now. Oh, I wish I could see him and you again right now!I think that was the lovliest thing of Cousin Ellen to send you the little blanket. How perfect that you should have it, darling—You must keep it all the time—I'd rather you did, except for my baby's christening—when it will give me the deepest happiness to have it then—Mac is almost ready to go and I must get up and get my things on. I wonder if you can decipher this at all!Hug my wonderful nephew for me and my bully brother and for your precious self all my deepest, dearest love—Think of our two babys being so nearly the same age and playing together and loving each other—oh Jettydarlin', isn't it beautiful—