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Nile Kinnick's correspondence with his family, January-June 1939
1939-03-29: Page 03
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from a governmental service angle or from an entirely private angle in connection with the economic side of the question. What I have in mind is well illustrated in the activities of one of the speakers we heard this winter on the Rotary forum on International Relations. His name is Allison, or something like that, and he is a lawyer in Chicago. He has travelled extensively and has taken an active part in promoting international peace and understanding. Evidently he is well known for his capacity to speak on subjects of that kind and he must be a sound and potent influence for good in that field. We thought he was the best man we have heard this winter. You could equip yourself to take part in councils on the economic problems of agriculture and could be a trusted emissary of the people that you understand and love for their inherent courage and independence, but who more and more are beoming subject to forces that require more understanding and experience than most of then have. Your comments on your plans for the next few years sound good, and I hope that we can give some constructive discussion on them when you are home in April. What opportunities there are these days; what challenges. Your admonition that we read your letter with tolerance and compassion was a needless one, as I presume that none than your mother and father understand more fully your vivid alertness, mental vigor, unusual sympathy and infinite capacity for good. Mingled with those qualities is an appreciation of the practical aspect of the day's problems, an adequate dash of patience and a good sense of values. It will be good, however, to have you at home again for personal contact and reappraisal. I have been wishing for an opportunity to come in on you at IC, and almost had it arranged early in February. Perhaps it will work out better some time this spring. Mother and Mr, Stilling have been practicing their rolls, and I am sure that they, especially mother, will prove to be a highly satisfactory performer. She has been busy getting her physical effects in shape also. A new dress and a new corset (shape), etc. The police nicked her for over-parking on Monday, and was she mad. It was supposed to be a secret from us, and only by accident did George find a copy of her ticket to-day. Odd isn't it, how most of us don't mention our delinquencies and shortcomings. I believe that I have failed to mention both of the contributions that I have made to the same "cause." Speaking for myself, I have been is some degree of disgrace for a couple of weeks. One evening I helped George with his language, answering some question* of proper use of pronouns. The next evening at dinner I asked with some illy concealed anticipation what the score was on his paper. With withering disgust he informed me that all the questions I answered were wrong. Rex Moore was out for dinner that evening, and he nearly slid under the table. Next day and for the ensuing week he had merry at my expense by leading my office compatriots to believe that he held the key to my reputation. Be made it sound pretty big, and the story, when finally revealed was told by some of my close friends with considerable relish, as I have most of them bluffed into some respect for my skill with the written word. However, I have been able to regain the respect of my immediate family by a coup of last Sunday. We laughed more that day than I remember ever doing before. George announced that he must have a beard as part of his costume for an appearance as Grumpy in the playlet "SnowwhIte" to be presented by his room at Dundee. The assignment fell to me, and I blithly said "Of course", never having been in the whisker business from the assembly angle. A search of the basement revealed no materials other than a piece of gunny sack with the word POTATOES emblazoned it red and blue letters. It was a bit soiled so we washed it cursorily and hung it up to dry, taking in a cinema during that interim. Than we ravelled it and had the nicest lot of brown beard material you ever saw. Of course there was a strong tinge of blue and red, adding a lot of interest and a sort of technicolor touch. I told George that he could give the beard a twitch and the word POTATO would appear in a startling and diverting manner. Mother almost queered the deal as she could scarcely retrain her unqualified ondemnatlon of the entire proceedings, but I was able to sell George on my ability as a beard maker. We glued the woof and the warp to a strip of adhesive tape and attached a rubber band to go ever his head. Then we trimmed it abit and rather over her protest, borrowed mother's comb to make it neat. You'd be surprised. Mother was frankly astonished. Tonight George said their show was so good that they have to present it again tomorrow - and his beard is the best in the show. last Saturday I took the day off from the office and went up to Turin
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from a governmental service angle or from an entirely private angle in connection with the economic side of the question. What I have in mind is well illustrated in the activities of one of the speakers we heard this winter on the Rotary forum on International Relations. His name is Allison, or something like that, and he is a lawyer in Chicago. He has travelled extensively and has taken an active part in promoting international peace and understanding. Evidently he is well known for his capacity to speak on subjects of that kind and he must be a sound and potent influence for good in that field. We thought he was the best man we have heard this winter. You could equip yourself to take part in councils on the economic problems of agriculture and could be a trusted emissary of the people that you understand and love for their inherent courage and independence, but who more and more are beoming subject to forces that require more understanding and experience than most of then have. Your comments on your plans for the next few years sound good, and I hope that we can give some constructive discussion on them when you are home in April. What opportunities there are these days; what challenges. Your admonition that we read your letter with tolerance and compassion was a needless one, as I presume that none than your mother and father understand more fully your vivid alertness, mental vigor, unusual sympathy and infinite capacity for good. Mingled with those qualities is an appreciation of the practical aspect of the day's problems, an adequate dash of patience and a good sense of values. It will be good, however, to have you at home again for personal contact and reappraisal. I have been wishing for an opportunity to come in on you at IC, and almost had it arranged early in February. Perhaps it will work out better some time this spring. Mother and Mr, Stilling have been practicing their rolls, and I am sure that they, especially mother, will prove to be a highly satisfactory performer. She has been busy getting her physical effects in shape also. A new dress and a new corset (shape), etc. The police nicked her for over-parking on Monday, and was she mad. It was supposed to be a secret from us, and only by accident did George find a copy of her ticket to-day. Odd isn't it, how most of us don't mention our delinquencies and shortcomings. I believe that I have failed to mention both of the contributions that I have made to the same "cause." Speaking for myself, I have been is some degree of disgrace for a couple of weeks. One evening I helped George with his language, answering some question* of proper use of pronouns. The next evening at dinner I asked with some illy concealed anticipation what the score was on his paper. With withering disgust he informed me that all the questions I answered were wrong. Rex Moore was out for dinner that evening, and he nearly slid under the table. Next day and for the ensuing week he had merry at my expense by leading my office compatriots to believe that he held the key to my reputation. Be made it sound pretty big, and the story, when finally revealed was told by some of my close friends with considerable relish, as I have most of them bluffed into some respect for my skill with the written word. However, I have been able to regain the respect of my immediate family by a coup of last Sunday. We laughed more that day than I remember ever doing before. George announced that he must have a beard as part of his costume for an appearance as Grumpy in the playlet "SnowwhIte" to be presented by his room at Dundee. The assignment fell to me, and I blithly said "Of course", never having been in the whisker business from the assembly angle. A search of the basement revealed no materials other than a piece of gunny sack with the word POTATOES emblazoned it red and blue letters. It was a bit soiled so we washed it cursorily and hung it up to dry, taking in a cinema during that interim. Than we ravelled it and had the nicest lot of brown beard material you ever saw. Of course there was a strong tinge of blue and red, adding a lot of interest and a sort of technicolor touch. I told George that he could give the beard a twitch and the word POTATO would appear in a startling and diverting manner. Mother almost queered the deal as she could scarcely retrain her unqualified ondemnatlon of the entire proceedings, but I was able to sell George on my ability as a beard maker. We glued the woof and the warp to a strip of adhesive tape and attached a rubber band to go ever his head. Then we trimmed it abit and rather over her protest, borrowed mother's comb to make it neat. You'd be surprised. Mother was frankly astonished. Tonight George said their show was so good that they have to present it again tomorrow - and his beard is the best in the show. last Saturday I took the day off from the office and went up to Turin
Nile Kinnick Collection
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