620 West 122nd St.
January 5, 1931
Happy New Year! Five days gone a’ready!
A thousand thanks for your Christmas gift, which was a very happy thought indeed, and which I shall read with the greatest of pleasure–and wistfulness, too, I guess. I can’t forget the torment of Wuthering Heights. It’s a haunting thing to me.
I don’t think it was so very terrible of you to open It before Christmas. It was quite my fault. Then, too, as you know, I am somewhat of an atheist; and to tell the truth quite despise the mercenary thing Christmas has become! The real thing goes far deeper than that.
We enjoyed all your gifts ever so much, including every scrap of gilt ribbon, even! The “edibles” were quite ambrosian (speaking of ambrosia!) The soap-Santa-Claus made such a hit that it hasn’t been used yet! It’s one of those sad problems: “You cannot eat your cake and have it too.”
We had a three-foot Christmas tree and a lot of fun buying things for Sabra, mostly from Mr. Woolworth. That’s about all.
Well, to tell the truth, the graham crackers which you so subtly allude to, Matey Mine, are somewhat more chocolate-covered than before–not to say “gilt-edged,” which doesn’t seem to fit the metaphor so well! I’d hate to think you really were so blind as you suggest that you are.
Anyway, Christmas is gone, and here is another year, brand new, just out of its chrysalis!
Thanks again; and to all of you I wish the best luck in the world.
[in hand] Pardon the puny dimensions of this, won’t you?