May to David 18 Manor Road, Beckenham. 23. 1. 18.
My dear David,
It is a glorious day, so warm and bright, and I had a grand sleep last night and did not wake till passed 7. 0. I dreamt I was going to a ball, and just at the last moment almost one of my front teeth dropped out. I did not have time to dream about you as I usually do from 6.0. to 7.0. Don’t you feel neglected?
Last night I knitted mittens with some fine wool the dressmaker gave me, asking if I could do something for a soldier. She only had 22 oz. so could only make mittens with that quantity. Being fine wool I am putting in half thumbs.
I was called over the coals this morning. One of my girls was 22 times late last year. Fog and trains being held up are no excuse. Three other girls were 11 times late. By the way they are all laughing in the next room they are evidently enjoying the reprimanding I have given them. And I did try to look serious.
To-night I shall be calling at the dressmaker again. I want her to see my new skirt on. I think it ought to be altered. I admit I am no skeleton, but I make a barrel look slender in this.
Time is up, and I must get back to work.
According to the meaning of dreams, I am going to lose a friend. I shall not believe in that dream. By the bye, it was an artificial tooth I dreamt about, so I suppose I am going to lose a false friend. That’s alright.
I was reading The Amateur Gentleman in the train this morning, and think it will be worth reading.
I am longing to hear whether you have got those two missing books. I have not taken the matter up with Batsfords yet, thinking I would wait for your next letter.
Goodbye.
May.