August 29, 1946
Dear Sam-- 1
What a tender skin Mr. Wilson has! He can't bear it that one of his remarks should be taken in a light-hearted fashion. You were supposed to brood reverently.
At the risk of being over-fatuous I shall repeat to you what my old mother used to say to me about my recurrent "lung-fever." She pointed out to me that the fat boys had most of the bronchial troubles. And lately I've discovered that if I eat no bread nor anything made with flour the pounds peel off me. I repeat this old wives tale as one fat boy to another.
I wouldn't sell that Bangor place to a friend. 2 It's mostly musk-rat swamp surrounded by a deer-fence. The rats go under and the deer go over, leaving nothing inside but a slow-deep stream full of fish that bite and pull in so easy that no sportsman gets any fun out of them.
Well, I wish you were back in the company. I shall try to get you back in--or organize another one and get you into that.
I write this in the middle of the night--not being able to sleep. The curse of over-fifty is indecision. I could have used a little of it usefully when under fifty.
Love to you and Else-- Max