May 11, 1931 - Monday

It was so hot today. Everybody was just melting. After archery I had some lemonade and later went in swimming. First time in day time this year. I got a tan in that short time.

George's Letter Home:

Monday, 11^th (May, 1931)

Dear Folks,

Don’t think that I am negligent; because I really wrote you a great big long letter the other night.

Things have certainly been lively around this place for the last few days. This whole weekend cost the “Junior Class” five thousand dollars. We entered a float in the canoe fete this year; and Barnes and I built the thing. It was really quite good and caused a lot of comment. It was a Viking ship all done in white with silver flitters on it to make it sparkle in the moonlight. It was about forty feet long; and we had nine freshman in it to look like a crew. We put forth a lot of time and effort on it and the best part about it was that the freshmen did the whole thing by themselves.

Saturday morning we passed from our stage of freshmen into that of sophomores. The old annual ceremony of burning the lids and having a tug of war with the sophomores took place.  This tug-o-war takes place across the millrace and we sure doused the sophomore class; the first time it has ever been done.

I only made fifty points this mid-term, and that must certainly not be the case in my finals. No foolin the hot weather is just getting me down. The darn old mill race is so inviting and everybody is out swimming and I just can’t seem to keep away from it.

Preble had a chance to go to California in an airplane this Sunday and so I drove him out to the airport. He let me have the use of his car for the time that he is gone; but I put it away in the garage. There is no use abusing ones friendships you know.

My finances are all O.K. except I should have two dollars and seventy-two cents more for a few obligations I have around here. I really am not running up bills, but sometimes I need some gold to get haircut or something and I needs much charge it.

I am leaving Saturday morning about ten o’clock for home to see my good old family, and boy will I be glad.

Love, George