How I have adored your sweet letters and how darling you are to write to me so often. You knew, didn't you, how much I would want them just now, when I want to see you so dreadfully and can't? Oh Jetty, my baby is so wonderful and I'm so happy. If you could only see her right now when she's so little and so adorable. I want to see our two lovely babies together and I want to see it now.Isn't it beautiful and wonderful beyond words to have a little baby of your own? There is no deeper joy in the world—I know now that that is true.————I began this five days ago and then was interrupted by one of the many baths or nursings or glasses of milk or cups of mush that you knew so much about, too. And since then I have been suddenly allowed to do almost anything I pleased and so have been terribly busy trying to get a few things done before we go away—I have to go to the dentist every morning and that in itself nearly “knocks me out” for the rest of the day. But I didn't think that I could wait so long to write to you, darling Jetty—this is the first letter I have written but I meant to write to you when I could first sit up.
To-morrow I'm going to send you a picture of Ellen Wilson McAdoo with Mac and me. I would send you one with Father & Mac and me but it's not good of the baby and I want you to have an idea of how sweet and enchanting she is. She was a vain woman and posed as if she loved it. Oh Jetty, she's so darling and I am just distracted about her. I musn't rave but I can't think about anything else anymore. And my greatest longing now is to have you, my precious, precious sister, and your wonderful son, with me and my daughter. I'm racking my brains to think of some way to get over to Cornish from Maine this summer. Mac thinks that when the baby is older—after a month or two it would be alright to motor over, and then we'll stay a week or two. Won't it be glorious to be there with you all and to have our babies—oh my!I'm so happy about that blessed Frank weighing thirteen pounds. Oh, I wish I could see him. Darling, darling Jetty, I'm so unspeakably lonely for you—I want to be with you more than I ever have in all my life. But I will be soon, for a little while, anyhow and Ill have to wait till then.
Good-night darling. This old scribble must end—Ill write you a real letter soon. This was only to tell you how happy I am and how heavenly my baby is and that I'm feeling fine And she's so well and weighs eight pounds—and to thank you for your sweet, sweet letters and tell you how much, how dearly I love you—With love and kisses from Ellen and Mac and me for you all—June 19th