ALS on letterhead from Arthur A. Wright & Son, Funeral Directors in Seattle. No date, ca. 1920s based on the four-digit telephone format. Written by Walter, who's working at the funeral parlor (and about to start a service!) to a woman who’s not returning his letters. Riddled with red flags, he is aware his attentions aren't well-received: he’s written 9 or 10 letters left unanswered, yet he insists on calling her sweetheart and begs her to write back and “hurry home.”

Ruth, darling;
I know you won't approve of what I am saying. One doesn't like to be unduly censured. But honey, four whole days since I have had a letter from you. I know you are busy seeing every one and having a good time, but dear, I think of you so much that even when I didn't receive a letter yesterday, I began thinking many dire things. You wouldn't upset me unnecessarily would you? I'll just hope there will be one tomorrow. Please.

Have you received the other letters I wrote to you? About four to Ashland, one to Rice Lake, two to Minneapolis, and two or three to Deerwood. The picture went to Ashland.

I told you about going on a weeks trip to Mora next week. If you have answered it immediately, it would reach me at Mora in time to meet you in Vancouver on Friday. Gee sweetheart, that would only be one week more. Darn that will be a long time to wait. Please dear, don't stay too long. I have gone out once in the past two weeks. That was to a show. Truthfully Ruth, any woman but you bore me to death. I find myself comparing them with you, and I am always dissatisfied. Do you do that too? Be careful, it will be an admission. Whatever you say, I know what you really think. Boy, am I happy! Without you nothing counts.

Honey, we have a service now so I must get busy.
Hurry home.

My truest love always,
Walter

I wish you could be with me at Mora.