第11部分(第3/6 頁)

me　proud　is　practically　negligible　since　the　time　you　made　yourself　a　good　diver　at　camp　（and　now　you　are　softer　than　you　have　ever　been）。　In　your　career　as　a　“wild　society　girl”；　vintage　of　1925；　I'm　not　interested。　I　don't　want　any　of　it—　it　would　bore　me；　like　dining　with　the　Ritz　Brothers。　When　I　do　not　feel　you　are“going　somewhere”；　your　pany　tends　to　depress　me　for　the　silly　waste　and　triviality　involved。　On　the　other　hand；　when　occasionally　I　see　signs　of　life　and　intention　in　you；　there　is　no　pany　in　the　world　I　prefer。　For　there　is　no　doubt　that　you　have　something　in　your　belly；　some　real　gusto　for　life—a　real　dream　of　your　own—and　my　idea　was　to　wed　it　to　something　solid　before　it　was　too　late—as　it　was　too　late　for　your　mother　to　learn　anything　when　she　got　around　to　it。　Once　when　you　spoke　French　as　a　child　it　was　enchanting　with　your　odd　bits　of　knowledge—　now　your　conversation　is　as　monplace　as　if　you'd　spent　the　last　two　years　in　the　Corn　Hollow　High　School—　what　you　saw　in　Life　and　read　in　Sexy　Romances。

I　shall　e　East　in　September　to　meet　your　boat—but　this　letter　is　a　declaration　that　I　am　no　longer　interested　in　your　promissory　notes　but　only　in　what　I　see。　I　love　you　always　but　I　am　only　interested　by　people　who　think　and　work　as　I　do　and　it　isn't　likely　that　I　shall　change　at　my　age。　Whether　you　will—or　want　to—remains　to　be　seen。

Daddy

P。　S。　If　you　keep　the　diary；　please　don't　let　it　be　the　dry　stuff　I　could　buy　in　a　ten�franc　guide　book。　I'm　not　interested　in　dates　and　places；　even　the　Battle　of　New　Orleans；　unless　you　have　some　unusual　reaction　to　them。　Don't　try　to　be　witty　in　the　writing；　unless　it's　natural—　just　true　and　real。

P。　P。　S。　Will　you　please　read　this　letter　a　second　time？　I　wrote　it　over　twice。

。。