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Detroit, Michigan. January 8, 1934.

Dear Mrs. Moore: Your letter and the snapshots added the finishing touches to my Christmas happiness this year.

I am wondering, although it isn't a very charitable thought, just what mother said when she spoke to you of my Aunt. I am not living there any more, but they were all well the last I heard. It's rather odd that youth has such a different outlook on life, or perhaps its only natural! But some older people certainly can grow into themselves and manage to make other people very miserable.

Now take yourself, for instance; I am sure that you are a very charming person and not the least bit narrow-minded or shall I say Victorian! At least I imagine so from your