Mon. Night

Dear John Milton,

For the past two weeks, I have been in a fog. I don’t think I owe you a letter but here I go. I’m quite sure I wrote to you some time ago. I think I gave the letter to a boy to mail, and I’m positive he wouldn’t hold out on me. Nevertheless, I would enjoy a letter from you real soon.

Finals are now over, and we all have a fresh start. I’m going to make the best of it. I did fairly well the past semester, and now I’m going to endeavor to improve upon my past marks.

I have been quite upset lately. In the mindset of my finals, my Grandfather died. We surely did appreciate the flowers and telegram from your folks. It surely was considerate and thoughtful of them.

This past Friday night I went to the Tau Kappa Epsilon Fraternity formal, and met a terrible doom. While dancing, someone evidently dropped a lighted match on the floor expecting it to go out, and in the contrary it caught my dress on fire. I was quite fortunate as I wasn’t burned badly. My right leg was injured a little, but that is all. My dress was burned completely. They had to rip it off of me, and roll me on the floor to stop the flames. They were higher than my head. After it was all over, I was quite nervous and ill, so this meant they had to carry me from the floor. I was embarrassed to the utmost extent. You can’t imagine how I felt.

How has every little thing been with you? I hope fine. I suppose you’ve been going to dances, parties, etc. Well, while and tell me about them.

I’m all by my lonesome this evening. My roomie has gone to the library to study, and all the other girls are deep in their rooms with work. After I finish this, I must begin. I thought I had better write, but I still think you owed me a letter.

John Milton, please write to me soon. I’ll be looking forward to a letter real, real soon. If my writing to you is boresome, or if you don’t care to carry on a correspondence, please let me know. I don’t want to make a fool out of myself.

So long, until the next time, which I hope isn’t long, but this all depends upon you.

Love,

Ruth