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Conger Reynolds correspondence, August 1918
1918-08-07 Daphne Reynolds to Conger Reynolds Page 3
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in one breath that she is starving for a fig, and in the next that she is choking to death. Thruout the house the gentle small of browning flour wanders, unreproved. Aunt Maude sits with her feet elevated to a fearsome height, trying to dry them over the range. (A range is supposed to be high, I believe.) In her lap is a chopping bowl, and she is cutting up a dangerous looking mess of citron, figs, raisins and nuts. As she chops she sniffles gently and sneezes over her left shoulder. (This is a very sanitary business, let me assure you.) Poor lady.
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in one breath that she is starving for a fig, and in the next that she is choking to death. Thruout the house the gentle small of browning flour wanders, unreproved. Aunt Maude sits with her feet elevated to a fearsome height, trying to dry them over the range. (A range is supposed to be high, I believe.) In her lap is a chopping bowl, and she is cutting up a dangerous looking mess of citron, figs, raisins and nuts. As she chops she sniffles gently and sneezes over her left shoulder. (This is a very sanitary business, let me assure you.) Poor lady.
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