"He [Stanley] worked pretty hard on a book report he has to get in at school this morning so he could go down and play on the ice this afternoon and when we were eating dinner he said something about the ice and I told him I thought it would be to soft as the sun had been shining all morning or most of the morning and he hit the table with his hand and tears came in his eyes, he was pretty disappointed about it but soon got over it."
-- Letter from my grandfather, Bloomington, Kans., to my father, Cape Girardeau, Mo., Monday, December 20, 1943. Stanley was my father’s 10-year-old brother. Dinner was eaten at noontime on the farm.
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