DEAR SUSAN: How do you and dad do? I am well and hope you are the same.
This is an awfully pretty place with trees and big lawns all around it, and walks and seats everywhere in the summer, they say. We aren't sitting outdoors to-day, though. It's only four below!
We had a jolly trip out. The doctor's great. He spent half his time talking to me about the things we were seeing out the window. We went through a wonderful country, and saw lots of interesting things.
The doctor's daughter was along, too. But she didn't have much to say on the trip. I've seen quite a lot of her since we've been here, though, and she's ALL RIGHT. At first I didn't like her very well. It was her voice, I guess. It reminded me of somebody I didn't like to be reminded of. But after I got used to it I found she was really very nice and jolly. She knows lots of games, and we play together a lot now. She's so different from that girl she sounded like that I don't mind her voice now. And I don't think she minds (here a rather unsuccessful erasure showed that "playing with me" had been substituted for "being with blind folks").
She gave me this paper, and told me the folks at home would like a letter, she knew. That's why I'm writing it. And I guess that's enough for this time.
Love to all. KEITH BURTON
P.S. I'm going to have the operation to-morrow, but they won't know for quite a while whether it's successful or not, the doctor says. KEITH
Susan read this letter, then took it at once to the studio and read it again aloud.
"Now ain't that great?" she crowed, as soon as she had finished.
"Y-yes, but he didn't say much about himself or his treatment," demurred the man.