"Centerville, Iowa.

"Dear Carol and David:

"I am getting very, exceptionally wise. I am really appalled at
myself. It seems so unnecessary in one so young. You will remember,
Carol, that I used to say it was unfair that ministers' children should
be denied so much of the worldly experience that other ordinary humans
fall heir to by the natural sequence of things. I resented the
deprivation. I coveted one taste of every species of sweet, satanic or
otherwise.

"I have changed my mind. I have been convinced that ordinaries may
dabble in forbidden fires, and a little cold ointment will banish every
trace of the flame, but ministers' children stay scarred and charred
forever. I have decided to keep far from the worldly blazes and let
others supply the fanning breezes. For you know, Carol, that the
wickedest fires in the world would die out if there were not some
willing hands to fan them.

"There is the effect. The cause--Kirke Connor.

"Carol, has David ever explained to you what fatal fascination a
semi-satanic man has for nice, white women? I have been at father many
times on the subject, and he says, 'Connie, be reasonable, what do I
know about semi-satanics?' Then he goes down-town. See if you can get
anything out of David on the subject and let me know.

"Kirke is a semi-satanic. Also a minister's son. He has been in
trouble of one kind or another ever since I first met him, when he was