Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

and held it under his arm, then resting his chin on his hand and hunching himself up, he said slowly:
“I’ll just go up to her confidential-like, you know (he doesn’t know her) and I’ll say “Say Merle, now really, don’t you think we’re a h—l of a bunch?”
                 Sunday Dec. 11, 1910.
      To-day is another Sunday and like most all Sundays. Bill came over to find out what I was go to do in the afternoon and I invited him over, altho I had a lot of German to get.
     Then I called up King and asked him over, but he said he was going to Bud’s to make a map. Then I dug into my lessons. When Bill came over I had just started on my German – we had to translate a couple of pages of German poetry into English poetry and I am no poet. So naturally I got on slowly. I didn’t feel right about not entertaining him, but I had to get the German to-day. But then Louise, Joe and Fred started a game of cards until supper time.
     Then Bill departed home for supper. He said he was going to church in the evening.