the seriousness of a little old man. Now, right in the middle of this
flourishing state of affairs you come, with your big American pockets
filled with elastic candy and bon-bons, and at a moment's notice
you produce cold-cream, perfumed with strawberry and vanilla, and
snow-covered cakes such as Jimmy can never hope to equal. What little
girl would not turn fickle to her first love in the presence of such
a display? At first Jimmy was filled with natural jealousy at your
intrusion. He was all for going over there and giving you a piece of
his mind; but since receiving your letter he has, almost incredibly,
come to feel sorry for you because, as he says, "it must be pretty
tuf to be all alone over there, and I guess he thinks my godchild is
a peach, all right." And Jimmy is right; you must be so very very
lonesome! And yet couldn't we manage to cheer you up a little without
taking Jimmy's godchild away from him? I don't know of any little
godchild I could give you in exchange, but I do know of a girl who
lives with an invalid mother in a big white house on a hill, and who
would only be too glad to have a soldier for a godson and send him
little packages of cigarettes, and pictures of movie stars (of which
she has a great collection) and--oh tell him about home and friends
and people and everything.

I am sending you this letter care of Andrée Leblanc; if you would care
for the arrangement I suggest, would you let me know?

Sincerely yours,
Elizabeth Winslow