O Boy! Chapter 15 - More Elmhurst

In this chapter, through quotes from letters of this period (saved by my mother and my mother-in-law), I hope to convey some of the atmosphere and antics of our three and later four little boys. There is much more in the letters, but I have deliberately picked out the stories about the children who were a dominant part of our lives!

The scene opens at the manse, a 2 bedroom cottage, at 1501 98th Ave, Oakland. We were living one block from the Elmhurst Presbyterian Church of which Bob was the pastor, August 1948‑ 1950. I was pregnant with David as well as being busy with Charley, 3; Tim, 2 and Billy, 1. The letters speak of raising money to paint the church, making tuna casseroles, gnashing our teeth at the fundamentalism of the local presbytery, the tragic death of a two‑year old in our congregation, the acquisition of an upright piano after the death of Aunt Mino (Dr. Minora Kibbe who was one of two pioneer women doctors in the state of California). It was a Davenport-Treacy with a nice tone. Etc. etc.!! In between taking care of the children I was working on religious art slides, making clothes, having meetings at our house and sharing in the very active life of the church.

3/27/49 The boys have had another slight round of colds but are better. Timothy has gone to Sunday School the last two Sundays and seems to make out fine. With the spring weather the boys have been out a lot more and are enjoying their tricycles and swings, etc. I realize with a sense of (temporary) relief that they are a lot more educated about streets, sidewalks, where they can play and where they can't than when we first moved here. 98th Avenue is a through traffic street and the speed and frequency of cars and trucks is frightening. Last fall I didn't dare let them out by themselves except in the back yard and even then I had to keep a close lookout....Dink reported the boys were singing the Neidlinger song as follows, "The cornflakes falling down, cover the ground with white‑‑they look like the stars that we see in the sky at night, etc." [Little did we know how much snow they would see in the years ahead...]

4/17/49 At the moment Bill is begging to be let out of the playpen and have some fun. Tim is still napping and Charley is building blocks. I must iron their suits for Sunday and shine the shoes, etc., etc...I feel fine. Finally got to the Dr. about April lst. He says the baby is very normal in every way ... and I have all the assorted wiggles to assure me that something is there. It is certainly big enough already. The doctor said from what I told him that it might easily have been a twin aborting (when I had my trouble)‑‑you should have seen Dink's jaw drop when I told him that.

5/15/49 Billy still doesn't really walk though he has been taking several steps at a time for many weeks now. However, when he really wants to get somewhere he always resorts to a tummy‑ crawl. On his year old birthday we invited two little boys from down the street for the afternoon and supper (their mother had a brand‑new baby and I thought I could relieve her.)

5/20/49 Billy still doesn't really walk. He has taken 5 or 6 steps at a time...but still thinks 4 supports are better than two. Anyway, he had a fine time scrambling in and out among our chairs and he has such very engaging ways that he is always extremely popular. Timmy is generally credited with being much more aggressive than Charley. Tim has a way of sailing up to a perfect stranger and launching into a complicated conversation (pretending he is his latest hero from fiction‑‑Farmer Jones, Mr. McGregor, Curious George, etc.), and you are lucky if you can get a word in edgewise. Charley tends to be more shy with strangers and is generally more diffident about most new situations...Permanente (ten miles from here) is where I am going to have my "event" in August (if all goes well) and is located across the corner from a magnificent park where Dink takes the children when I have my appointments. The only trouble with going to a hospital for prenatal visits is that the children go around the block after you get home telling the neighbors that "mama went to the hospital".

(We took a week's "vacation" in Sequoia National Park where Bob preached at the Chapel of the Sequoias on the l7th; then drove through Yosemite on the way home).

7/25/49 The boys (Charley and Tim) have left with their father for Sunday School. Dink wielded an armful of folded bulletins and a bouquet of flowers (rather mangy dahlias picked from our yard because the person who was supposed to have flowers this Sunday is away)...Now it is time already to wake Billy from his nap and take him off to church. Billy is changing so fast that he seems like a new boy each day. I have always loved the early walking stage for that reason‑‑so many new horizons and interests. He is a real, genuine hot sketch...

8/15/49 Had a very satisfactory talk with the doctor last Monday. I am going again tomorrow morning, just for a check up. I think I've realized the last few weeks that most everybody (including myself for a few months) thought I'd never really carry this baby to the end and it's kind of nice to be feeling so normal and nearly 9‑monthsish now.

8/20/50 The boys are a scream when we go to the library. They get so excited whenever they see a book that is an old familiar one and immediately set themselves up and read it at a crescendo of loudness to each other. Last time they found several favorites all at once: "Curious George Takes a Job"; "The Little Farm" by Lois Lenski, and Epaminandas. We were returning (among others) Wanda Gag's "Gone is Gone" which I fell in love with. It's just a simple folk tale retold, but I think the boys heard it about 2l times during the 3 weeks we kept it without tiring of it (or best of all without MY tiring). It just reminded me of how nice it is to read well‑written books by an author with a relish for the flavor of words, not just captions for pictures.

...I remarked to Motherdee at supper tonight that about this time before the new baby I always think as I look at my present children, "Well, the next one can't possibly be as adorable as these, so I'll try to love it just as much‑‑" And then I've never so far had to TRY. Billy has become a comical little toddler who talks a blue streak in a language unique to WRD. His hair still curls a little even though I cut it quite short and he is as blond and pink‑cheeked and blue eyed and lively as can be. Timmy is pretty rough with him at times and then I upbraid him and say very sharply "Timmy, how is Billy going to be a good big brother if you don't show him? You go pat him and tell him you're sorry." So Timmy hikes over cheerfully and gives him a friendly cuff (Billy having begun to wince the minute Timmy headed in his direction) and they are off on an expedition together in no time.

8/23/49 (RMD) ...David Knox DeWolf arrived about 3:25 this morning...we got to the hospital just at midnight...

8/23/49 (CBD) ... Dearest Bobby, I wonder if Bob has phoned you, and you know all about how David arrived. At the end I had gas which kept me from seeing his features very clearly‑‑only his crop of black hair and his dear littleness. Bob says he looks like the other boys and I can scarcely wait to have them bring him to me (in about an hour). Isn't it funny to think that a BOY IS just what we wanted...just saw my darling Davey. His hair is so thick and black he looks like a cute little Indian...

9/11/49 It seems like years ago that Dink brought me home from the hospital. It was a lovely warm afternoon...I was of course panting to see my dear "big" boys, but they were all so utterly excited about the baby that they ignored me completely much to my loving amusement. Timmy and Charley were just sweet with David from the start. Billy was initially shocked to see his Daddy carrying somebody else, but he has quickly come round to enjoying David too. Timmy comes running to me every time he hears David cry and says, "Mommy, David wants you."

10/15/49 Timmy has a wonderful way of making words whenever he needs them. One of his expressions tickles me ‑‑ he says "the baby is being have" or "Billy is being have"‑‑after all I tell HIM to behave ‑‑ why not? After the football game I walked the kids over to the church to see if Dink was through and would like to drive over to the Hosicks (source of reject cookies). While I was chatting with Dink in the study, I heard the boys in the sanctuary and went in to see what they were up to. There was Charley perched in his daddy's throne‑like chair with his toes barely reaching the front edge of the seat and his head cupped in his hand in an attitude of meditation that was simultaneously so profound and so comical that I beat a hasty retreat. Presently he got up and marched the length of the aisle and gave the benediction from the rear door...he plays this game at home with such exquisite detail that I am torn asunder at times. I don't want the children to think it is a game‑‑yet they speak of it as playing church‑‑and it is a wonderful game really. I just watch them in awe part of the time. Charley keeps adding details from his absolute concentration at church (he's been going regularly with me the last 4 months. When people marvel to me at how "perfectly your son behaves" I chuckle to myself and do not explain to them that he is really watching every bit to improve his own service at home. He often remembers bits of the sermon and asks his daddy afterwards‑‑I can't help feeling people underestimate kids lots of times.

Anyway, if you could see him in his bathrobe (like his father's robe) over his overalls, a chair with a high back reversed to make a pulpit‑‑the closet in our bedroom is "the study"‑‑no service can begin without Charley emerging from "the study", etc., etc. I'm sure you'd have a few mingled emotions yourself. Timmy is generally the choir and takes a good deal of bossing from the minister (Timmy is more aggressive than Charley as a rule so I don't care if he does take a subordinate role now and then.) When Charley stopped in the middle of a hymn recently and took Timmy sharply to task for reading his hymn upside‑down, I was convulsed. After making the proper rearrangements they both proceeded singing Faith of our Fathers at a fine pace. They always insist on our finding the correct hymn in the hymn book although how they can tell is more than I can see...

11/1/49 Recent conversation in the back seat of the car:

Charley: (excitedly) I saw a new firehouse!

Timmy (who had been looking away, and had NOT seen it): Did I see it?

Charley (firmly): Yes you did.

Timmy: Oh. (Long pause)

Charley: Did you? (end of conversation)

Sometimes I just wish you could hear all their bright sayings which I can never remember to quote in letters. All their exciting little childhood is flying by and none of their Eastern relatives even get a glimpse of them. Billy has been heart‑rendingly adorable for the past year and so soon he will be just another rough‑and‑tumble little boy as far as the outside world is concerned. Monday night we took the boys to a Hallowe'en party at the church (just Charley & Timmy) after celebrating Motherdee's birthday (Nov. 2nd) at dinner time. It was quite a gala day for the boys. I dressed them as ghosts and Billy put up such a protest at not having a costume too that I dressed him too ‑‑ and he strutted around like the cutest little pink‑and‑white ghost in the stratosphere. David celebrated Halloween by visiting the well‑baby clinic, weighed in at l0 lb. & 5 oz. and gets cuter and bouncier every day.

11/11/49 Tonight I feel sort of weary with coping with the boys. They spent part of the afternoon being garbage men and the rest of the afternoon being such realistic lions that I am almost growling too. Most of the time they are firemen, or Charley is a minister‑‑words fail me to tell you about the latter activity; it really has to be seen to be believed. He imitates Dink's gestures to such an extent that Dink says he feels self‑ conscious. Anyway, today is just one of those days...Charlotte sent Chitter‑Chatter and Billy has loved it to pieces (literally). I have yearned for another copy‑‑it seems to me the ideal "first" book and Billy is just a scream with it. Carries it around the house saying "chi‑chat" until he gets located on somebody's lap reading it. If I want to get him out of my hair temporarily when I'm busy I can always tell him to go find Chitter Chatter. It is in the same series with Timothy's Shoes and I really wish I had a new copy of each.

12/3/49 Dearest Bobby, Just two hours ago that we talked to you! Now I hope you are asleep like my dear 4 little boys. We started to put in the call to you a little after six, and the boys were a little too excited by the time it came through. Also the connection was poor and we couldn't hear you very well. Timmy was broken‑hearted that he didn't get to say hello to you again. I was in the middle of nursing David...had kept putting if off (waiting for the call to come through). It will be so nice to think of you tomorrow and to know you will be thinking of us when the children are baptized. I spent most of today making sure all four would look their best for the occasion. Alice Newhall volunteered to bring the Sunday dinner. (Dr. Bone, a former pastor, baptized the 3 younger boys the next day and had dinner with us and Alice & Luther afterwards.)...Wish you could have seen Charley read all of Little Thunder to Timmy just before the phone call came through. He knows a number of books by heart and reads to Timmy in an entrancing way. Billy is still adorable, but every day he learns some new aggravating thing to get into. The world is his oyster and my house often shows the effects. The other night at 7:22 p.m. I said to Charley and Tim "Just ONE more story." They got the idea of having the REAL Bible. They were as excited as if I'd unearthed real gems when they got the idea of reading all their favorite Bible stories in the original. At the end of 40 minutes solid reading, interrupted only by intelligent questions, I put them to bed.

P.S. Sunday, 9:15 p.m. What a glorious day this has been. Dear little David Knox was baptized and we were very tenderly proud of our dear family. We got up betimes but I was still putting the finishing touches on Bill when Alice & Luther arrived about 10:35 (Dink had taken Charley & Tim to Sunday School). Alice had some delightful mysterious objects to keep in the refrigerator and then Motherdee came along a minute or two later (looking elegant as always). She took Billy's hand while I wheeled David in the buggy and we all walked over together. Charley and Timmy were just emerging from Sunday School so Motherdee and I coralled them while Alice & Luther went on into church. We sat in the very first pew in this order: Luther, Alice, Charley, Me holding David, Timmy, Motherdee holding Billy. I felt fit to burst with pride at the boys who were good‑as‑gold. I had told them quite a bit about it ahead of time, and we made a little circle holding hands (while I held David) for a brief moment of prayer before the boys went to Sunday School‑‑and I felt they were really impressed with the ceremony. When it was time I handed David to his daddy and Mr. Bone made quite an impressive introduction about the church and our family and ministers' children‑‑it was lovely rather than embarrassing. David made a couple of minor gurgles of a conversational rather than fussing nature and the other boys were very good. When we first came into church three of the pre‑adolescent girls came gushing into the pew behind and started to whisper loudly to me and the boys. I whispered back, "I'm trying to teach the boys to be quiet in church...and you can help me..." The effect was electric and there wasn't another peep. After the ceremony Motherdee and I took Tim, Bill and David back to the nursery and Charley stayed with the Newhalls until I came back to sit with him.

12/11/49 (looking forward to Christmas) We have some simple things for the children, and I plan to go shopping with Charley to spend the 60 cents he has saved in his bank. I'll take Timmy a different day if Dink can give me an hour off after lunch and between those trips I hope we can give our stockings a delightful lumpy look. Our biggest Christmas present is Motherdee's piano which we have now had for 3 days. It is labeled "Baus Piano Co., New York City"‑‑an upright with an unusually fine tone. The only bad part of having the piano is that Charley expects me to play Church almost all the time and insists on introductory music, the Gloria Patri, Choral Amens and the whole works. Did I write you about his nearly capsizing Alice and Luther by a sermon he preached about Moses when he mentioned throwing the rocks in the garbage: he meant the tablets of law (made of stone: hence rocks). We throw the rocks that get in the way of the lawn‑mower into the garbage‑‑all very simple if you understand. His air is so solemn and earnest...

1/1/50 The days seem so full, yet not a whole lot to tell. The boys have been indoors a lot due to the cold and rain and muddy ground. Their latest mania is pretending to be monkeys. There is a caged monkey in a furniture shop about l0 blocks from here. I have taken them to see him several times with disastrous results‑‑they want to eat, sleep, talk etc. all on an ape level. Fortunately they do not feel it is suitable to be monkeys‑with‑ clothes‑on so this form of pretend takes place entirely in pajamas. The rest of the day there are three basic pretends:

l. Church (Billy is assuming a more active role in the choir lately and runs to me with his bathrobe saying "put on" as soon as Charley suggests it. Also "Holy Holy Holy" is still #1 on the Church hit‑parade including all the cherubim, seraphim and glassy sea ‑‑ that verse has a particular fascination. Billy tunes in on it even though as a rule his singing doesn't count for much yet.)

2. Indians (Little Thunder is basically responsible for this elaborate pretend‑‑here again they are always wanting to undress owing to R. Paflin's illustrations‑‑will you ask your illustrator to dress Little Thunder up for the next version? Anyway they used to insist on wearing rubber band bracelets until Dink fashioned some out of wide sticky tape that seemed even more realistic. They do a war dance to the California Indian Song‑‑ one of U.C.'s football songs all about scalping the Stanford Indians. You should see wee Willie Winkie being a fierce little Indian. They go to pow‑wows and make clay pots, etc.)

3. Re‑enacting the Christmas pageant. Separate scenes of wise men, shepherds, etc. They make fantastic head‑dresses and get so solemn that I think a rock would be awed. I've had some joss sticks kicking around ever since 1930 when Alice gave them to me so I let them use them in their "We Three Kings" procession. They were entranced. Otherwise practically all the details are their original ideas. They make Billy be a sheep and sometimes Tim is a mother sheep while Charley is the shepherd‑‑ more often Tim is the shepherd and Charley is the self‑appointed angel.

2/11/50 Starting Charley in school seemd particularly poignant during this week of remembering Buzz especially (he had died on this date in 1948)‑‑the relation of the two events has seemed plain to me, a special reminder of the breathtaking pace of life which seems to hurry us all on toward the finish. Dear funny gay little Charley. He looked radiantly handsome. Motherdee had given the boys some very pretty clothes for Christmas and since the Church gave us outfits for them I'd saved hers for school. Consequently he was extremely well dressed...he walked very happily with me and celebrated the occasion by crossing streets without‑holding‑hands‑‑he held my hand during the blocks however quite touchingly. Usually it's just the reverse. When I take the boys on walks they are regimented to all hold hands when we get to the corner but during the block they are free to roam and forage. I had explained to Charley that when he started to school he'd be able to cross the streets himself, but he could still help me hold the little boys' hands. He goes from l p.m. to 3 p.m.(1/2 mile distance) which is tough in a way‑‑I mean the morning would be easier. But one gets used to any schedule. Timmy announced the third day at breakfast, "Charley is NOT going to school today." He has naturally missed his bosom companion. Charley's only special remark that I remember was a wistful question to his father after the second day, "When do I start learning how to learn things?"

(At this time we were feeling the pressure of our smallish living room, trying to have meetings and family too ‑‑ plans were underway to put an addition onto the house.) "The reactions so far have been far beyond our anticipations. It seems as though the general reaction is one of relief that they see a way of keeping Dink here for a while. Honestly Dink is turrible popular. Thursday I went to a circle meeting. My back was to a large table where a dozen women were seated. I kept hearing "wonderful, yes they all think he's just wonderful, that sermon Sunday, etc., etc." Well natch I was pricking up my ears while trying to appear to concentrate on the dessert when Anna Condit called over to me, "Are you listening Carol?" So I said, "I'm sure trying to, but I can't quite hear all of it..." So they went on some more and I just said, "That's fine only don't tell him‑‑I have to live with him. After some more raves I said to Dink at supper, it kind of frightens you a little. On the other hand it certainly helps to have enough basic popularity so that the inevitable snipers are set back...I told Dink, "Ha ha you can use your old popularity to get us an addition to the house this year..." Dink said "Ha ha" right back and added, "I'll have the slogan for the year be "An addition to the house but not to the family".

(It was our unwillingness to push this through without unanimous consent that caused Bob to start looking toward the Methodist Church‑‑to solve the problem by moving.)

2/25/50 Each day Charley brings home a drawing from kindergarten and for about a week he had specialized in houses. But yesterday he presented me with his paper‑‑just one big mass of smudgy black scrawls, and remarked casually, "The house burned down, see‑‑nothing but a lot of ashes and smoke and things..." (Another time the teacher sent a note saying that she had asked the children to bring an old shirt of their father's to use for painting smocks but Charles had told her that his father didn't HAVE any old shirts.)

3/5/50 It is 20 minutes of eleven on a Sunday morning and Billy is standing at my shoulder in his bright green jacket hugging me on to church. Charley and Tim went with their father. David is all shining in the carriage, and I am wearing the tweedy coat that the supt. of the kindergarten dept. handed down to me. It's hard to believe I am now a person who wears glasses!

Had quite a scare with Timmy on Thursday. Dink brought Dick Stein home for lunch rather unexpectedly and while I was changing Billy and dressing Charley for school, I just told Charley to go say goodbye to his father and go to school (always before I have started him in the right direction by at least going to the door with him). Well shortly afterwards I missed Timmy. Dick said he'd seen him playing on the swing when they came in for lunch and so it never occurred to me that he could have gone with Charley. I hunted high and low. Dink and Dick drove around. I drove around. Stopped at every house I could think of, etc. The baffling thing was the completely unprecedented nature of his disappearance. The boys just don't visit anywhere without me and have been very good about obeying the rules of just where they are supposed to be. Well, as you've guessed, we finally drove up to the school and I got out and asked at the office. They told me I might go look in the kindergarten. I got halfway round the building and saw my nice fat grubby little Timmy. His back was turned toward me and as I swept him up into my arms he began to cry in a way that made me know he had been sobbing his heart out.

A woman outside said he had been crying hard too. He must have been there about an hour and obviously nearly 8 blocks to home seemed a long way. (Later we learned he had accompanied Charley who simply didn't know what to do with him when the bell rang.) ...Charley seems to be getting much more assertive, bossy, sassy, etc. since starting school. I wish they weren't so scared of TEACHING children anything. I am convinced children his age are fascinated by all facts, and cold hard learning. Kindergarten here consists of nothing but playing, stories, records, etc. Thursday he came home with a note saying "Bring 15 cents for a show from 2‑3 p.m. on Friday if you want to go". I carefully put the l5 cents in a change purse for him only to have an older boy show him how to spend 10 cents of it for bubble‑gum on the way home ‑‑ still don't know why it wasn't all collected.

4/11/50 The most dramatic event of last week was Billy eating a Grant's Ant Stake. It's quite a long yarn, but anyway he survived. It happened Monday. Timmy and Charley had taken the stake apart (they are little metal stakes with ant‑poison inside which you stick in the ground outdoors, and we thought they were childproof) Anyway, I blamed myself because I saw them doing it, but we were trying to get some pictures, so although I jumped on them (verbally) I didn't clear the situation up. I had David in my arms and mentally thought I'd throw the stuff away as soon as the pictures were taken. Then something went wrong with the camera and we were so distressed at the thought of losing the pictures that we just didn't think of it again until after lunch when we discovered the ant‑cake was missing and I found Billy sick all over the place. Dink phoned the doctor who told him to take him to the county hospital, but there they said it was too late to pump out his stomach. The vomiting had probably taken care of the worst of it and any antidote was almost as bad as the poison. Their only instructions were to watch him, and if he started to twitch or go into convulsions then they'd give an antidote. Well, he didn't, but he was very wretched and sweet and adorable. He wouldn't drink anything, only tiny sips and then would be quite pathetic in his attempts to get rid of it. Actually it's the kind of thing that to anticipate would be torture; in retrospect it seems very poignant, but at the time we were so busy bossing the situation that it didn't seem as gruesome as it does when I stop to think about it. Charley and Timmy reported to me excitedly, "It's all right now, mama, we told him it was poison before he dies..."

While I'm on the subject of calamities, a much more minor one this morning was Charley's bee‑sting. There seems to be a rage for catching bees in bottles in this neighborhood. I deplore the hobby because it means so much broken glass and sooner or later bee‑stings. The boys both got stung last summer but it didn't seem to cure them. Maybe this morning will have cured Charley‑‑I hope so. Barefoot, he came yowling and howling into the house and between enraged tears said vehemently, "He stinged me! he stinged me! They said if you killed the bee he wouldn't sting you so I stepped on him and he still stinged me and stinged me..."

4/21/50 (During this interval I suddenly became aware that I was riding close to the brink of a nervous collapse‑‑this is what I wrote to Bobby): "celebrated my birthday (April 17) with the children at noon. They had bought me a lemon squeezer and a measuring cup, both badly needed. Then Bob and I went out for a latish dinner with the Steins. Dick Stein does the radio broadcast with Dink and they had invited us for dinner. I found myself feeling just TERRIBLY nervous during the evening in spite of the fact that everything was just as lovely as it could be. The coffee was strong at dinner and I had had several cups so I blamed that. But it got worse and worse. I was kind of scared to feel so jittery.

I told Dink on the way home and next day I stayed in bed and he got the doctor from Permanente. She (the dr.) gave me a slight sedative and didn't blame the coffee‑‑at least she said that couldn't account for it completely...think I have been burning the candle at both ends and this was a good warning to me to take it easy...the PRESSURE of having to meet evening engagements, with the children all needing all my time and energy all day long is just too much...am to have a physical exam at Permanente Monday and see if low blood pressure, blood count or some other factor is eating me...meanwhile I feel better and have the most wonderful husband and children of any mother in the whole wild world.

5/2/50 Tomorrow is Billy's birthday and Dink is out in the garage trying to pound an ancient wagon into acceptable form for a present...just a small one for hauling blocks. David is trying to hunch himself off the pad onto the living room floor; Timmy has finished playing with the tracies and is watching me; Billy is asleep and Charley is at kindergarten...

5/8/50 Your letter psychoanalyzing me was so wonderful that I agreed with it l00%...[This was the hardest ordeal I ever went through in my whole life‑‑weeks and recurring times for months, even several years of feeling total panic. For the sake of the record I feel that I escaped a breakdown by saying the 23rd psalm over about a million times, sleeping, eliminating everything except caring for the children and Dink, reading Jane Austin, MAKING myself eat when everything tasted like dry paper, living one hour at a time, doing small menial things, being secure in Dink's love, leaning on him more, facing a horrid pride in myself that wanted to be (as one of my church friends put it) the ideal wife, mother and hostess. Motherdee and Alice Newhall were wonderful to me too, and I discovered LOTS of people who had had similar ragged experiences. Finally the Doctor discovered I was frightfully anemic and treating me for that helped too.] ...

Now the children are in bed but David is still fretting just a little‑‑he had his last shot at the "real baby clinic" (as Timmy used to call it) this morning.

Recent funny sayings of RMD:

Carol (emerging from Dr.'s office): The doctor says I should gain at least 10 lbs. (pause) Will you still love me when I'm a big fat tub?

RMD: Sure, Just like I did when you were before, honey.

RMD (counting David's toes‑‑spontaneity of original should have been heard to be appreciated):

"This little pig went to the supermarket.

This little pig stayed home to watch the television.

This little pig had roast beef au jus.

This little pig had none.

This little pig went out with a French girl who cried,

"Oui, oui, oui" all the way home."

****

Billy stayed with Mrs. Priester for a week while I was recuperating. Mrs. P thinks there never was or will be any child more angelic. The first few days that he was home again he had a definite adjustment to make to being just one of four little boys instead of being the apple of everybody's eye. At Sunday lunch, Bill was being quite wayward so I finally took him to his room. Dink leered at me, "Next time let's send him to somebody MEAN..."

****

Can't think of anything else funny, except Charley and Timmy who have been on a Little Thunder jag until I answer as readily to "Hush‑Hush" as to "mama". They make bracelets, head‑dresses, etc. out of sticky tape and Dink and I are going to write to Roberta Paflin before you publish any more books and say, PLEASE draw them with clothes on. No matter how cold the morning, the first two questions are, "Can I get dressed by the heater?" and "Do I HAVE to wear a shirt?" They kneel just like the pictures in Little Thunder and we eat "buffalo" in one form or another at practically every meal, etc.

7/2/50 I ask Billy to tell me a story every so often. These are two immediate and spontaneous answers: "Time (once upon a time), boy valking (walking) (pause) go go go." and "Time, kitty cat, dog valking, bow, wow, wow." The language is so elementary that it's hard to convey the intensity, excitement and satisfaction in these narratives. Timmy is a story teller from way back. He reels off such long and fantastic yarns that it is comical. Did I ever write you about the one with the fairy and the silver whistle that didn't blow?

[Bob decided to take the Methodist Church in Dunsmuir when it was offered to him by Dr. John Kenny (Supt.) and we moved the end of August after a brief camping trip at Richardson Grove with Tim & Charley. There were generous farewell parties and gifts and Motherdee took the boys while we packed.]

More letters...

8/15/50 (after an inspection trip to Dunsmuir)...The former minister says they always have at least 5‑6 feet of snow in the winter and it sounds as though we'll be Eskimos. (That's what the boys think‑‑I've read them the Eskimo Twins and a couple of other Eskimo stories and they are training David and Billy to be dogs to pull their sledges and go around explaining to everybody about how they'll make an igloo. My favorite story of the camping trip: Timmy and Charley were arguing over something Timmy had and Charley wanted. Charley kept saying "Please give it to me" Finally Timmy said:"Well, I'll see" (adding after a thoughtful pause) "...that means NO." It was such a direct reflection on his ma that I've been chortling ever since...Now it's bedtime for the boys‑‑they (I mean the top 3) are in the bathtub washing off some of the mud. One of Charley's thoughtful remarks on our camping trip was, "What are you going to do when you want to punish us? There's no ROOM you can send us to..." We found ways.

9/10/50...after the van left we climbed in the car and drove over to Motherdee's. She had a nice light supper ready. By 5:30 p.m. we were rolling with Charley and Timmy in the back of the car. We stopped to say goodbye to the Newhalls...had a hot trip even at night..arrived in Dunsmuir about 12:30 A.M. and found we couldn't break into our new home. All the time the key sat under the mailbox but we ended up raiding the basement for an old pair of springs and an old rug on which Dink slept. I slept in the front seat of the car while the boys slept in back. They were good little sports as we were not prepared to make ourselves comfortable and none of us got much sleep. All we could see of the house was an enormous pile of rubbish outside and I feared the worst. Next morning after a hasty clean‑up trip to a gas station we got hold of the key and even though we were weary and breakfast‑less, we were astonished when we got inside the house. A committee of church people had made it glitter‑‑downstairs repapered and painted, etc. I am now typing in Dink's study which is bigger than we remembered and very cozy. The boys felt at home at once and were soon busily engaged in collecting acorns (they wanted to know where the pigs were), knocking the ripe plums off the two plum trees (also the non‑ripe ones) and making countless tours of inspection.

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