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Friday

Dear Sherwood: I lunched with Don Wright today, and in the course of discussion of you and your writing, I asked him if he had anything of yours. I said that you were looking up some of your scattered impedimenta and had asked me if I had anything.

He said he had nothing of yours -- that T had let him have the bed he is using in the basement at 153 East Erie.

So that's what I think T meant by things she had given him -- possibly some other articles to furnish his room. Ive been there but did not notice. If you have anything in particular in mind, Ill see the next time I go over to drink Wrights gin.

A damned stupid week. Not off with the old -- not on with the new -- and pull-hauled from both sides. I wrapped up my stories to move 'em again. May be able to get back to em again, after I get squared away at the old copy-writing. This selling game is far too strenuous for art. They dont leave one much time to do anything but sell. It is moiling at the gold-mill all right. Well its something to have dreams anyway. More later. Dont forget at Porter Eastman Byrne Co, 22 West Monroe St

Affectionately Daugherty