Ellen Axson Wilson to Woodrow Wilson

It pleases me to write “May”, at the head of this letter for it seems to bring the time of your home-coming nearer.– I hope you have keept well during the last two days in St. Louis in spite of the fatigues of the occasion, and the extreme changes of climate temperature. We are having the same here, a little later,—intense heat yesterday, and a high cold wind today. The “corner Wilsons” had a may-pole &c. as usual, and all the children had to dance around it in their heavy winter cloaks. I went down partly to see it, chiefly to ask Mrs. Paxton and Mrs. Magie for money for the Infirmary. It was horrible,! I don't think I was cut out for that business. Yet they were both kind and Mrs. Paxton really cordial.

By the way, there was an operation for appendicitis at the Infirmary last night,— a junior,– Harold Smith from Chicago. It was a complicated case but he is doing very well. He is a friend of the Pynes and they were there until after midnight– also dear, good Mr. Hibben who simply saw the bright light in the operating-room, and went over to see what was wrong and if he could help. I saw the mother today.

I wrote to Bishop Talbot days ago but have had no answer,—suppose he was not at home. But I assume he will stay here; I tried to get the Hibbens to help me entertain him Saturday night, but this is the week when “the brother-in-law, comes” so at their suggestion I have asked Dr. Shields, who has accepted.

No news! – except that the new verses to the Faculty song are all horrid except yours. This class must be peculiarly spiteful. The one on Frothingham is funny though. He has evidently taken a very noticeable brace. I think I can repeat them.

Heres to Frothy our latest find,
He's gentle and easy to drive and kind
He had to make his courses hard
Or he couldn't play in Woodrow's yard.

My hand shakes so that I can hardly write just from walking all over town holding up my heavy dress, I think. So I will stop scrawling. I am so happy over the continued good news from my darling. In every heart-beat—