chair you gave me last Christmas. He had cried himself to sleep,
and in his hand was a picture of Nell. There she was in a little
white dress, smiling up at him just as she used to before it all
happened. I leaned over and touched him as gently as I could, and
said, "Come on to bed, Johnny." He never answered a word. He placed
the picture in his pocket, and I led him off to his room. He didn't
speak until just before he put out his light, and then he said,
"You know, Bill, I used to tell her all my schemes, and she was
so kind, and how she did want to see me a success. You know how
things are coming, Bill, and I'd like to see her just a minute
and have her cuddle up and say, 'I knew my boy was all right.'"
What was I going to do? I don't know anything about consoling
people, so I just said, "Never mind, Johnny; you and I'll take
a trip and try to forget it." Jim, it's been over two years now,
and he loves her more than ever. What I want you to do is to write
him and tell him to take a rest. He can afford it easily enough.
Every time he looks at anything somebody gallops in and hands him
a check. Do this, will you Jim?

Yours as ever,

Billy.