Eleanor Randolph Wilson McAdoo to Jessie Woodrow Wilson Sayre

My letter is late as usual and I'm mighty sorry but haven't had a single minute until now. And now I have to write in pencil because I am using every spare moment in any convenient place and I can't carry an ink bottle around. I hope you can read this and won't mind. Your letter was so dear, Jay-jay; oh how I do love them and read them over and over. I had the nicest dream last night. I dreamt that you were here and we were coasting down a hill on a bob sled. I can't imagine where we got any snow, here in Raleigh, to coast on, but anyway we did and we each had a suitor and yours was so desperately in love with you that he almost fell off the sled several times. Then a lot of St. Marys girls came up and I showed you off to them all and they were all so glad to have a chance to see you because they had heard me talk about you so very much, and then I woke up and I was so mad because I wanted it to be true! How I wish that you could come down here just once! I am so excited right now that I am just almost standing on my head, because Mother may arrive at one o'clock to-day and oh, my goodness sakes alive, it's almost too good to be true and I am so, so happy! Isn't it grand! I must tell you something else very interesting and exciting! I don't think you could guess what it is, so I'll tell you. Your little kidsister is going to teach the Freshman class in English for about a week!! Do you believe it? This is how it happened.—Miss Thomas had to go away to her home for a little while, because she hasn't been well at all lately and her brothers and sisters insisted that she must take a little rest. She has given the rest of her classes work to do by themselves but the Freshmen she has intrusted to me!!! It isn't as bad as it sounds because I am really not going to teach them but am only going to preside over the class and take up the papers they hand in and keep order and help them a little bit. But I'm scared to death anyway, so pray for me! We are terribly lonely without Miss Thomas and I am so disappointed that Mother won't see her and she won't see Mother. Isn't that a shame? I have spent all my time yesterday and the day before writing a long, thrilling story for the “Muse”! It is a football story about a big Yale-Princeton game, with a complicated love affair mixed up in it, and my dramatic descriptions of the game and the big crowds are truly strokes of genius?!Yesterday afternoon I was writing it in a room full of girls and I got so excited over the game that I most died! and I read it to them and they did too and they are planning to write the biography of “Nell Wilson, the great authoress” with illustrations! But I'm having an awful time now ending it up because the suitor whom she must take has been badly hurt and I don't see how he's going to come to her, when his leg's broken, and you knowshe can't go to him! Oh my! the writers of dime novels certainly do have their difficulties.Isn't this a foolish letter? Please don't think I'm perfectly crazy because I'm not; I'm only just in a state of great excitement because I'm going to see Mother so very soon!Good-bye my own darling. Oh you just don't know how dearly I love you. Are you perfectly well, dearest, and how is the cold? I hope it is gone. You know you really shouldn't open all those windows. I wouldn't.
With love and ever more and more love from