Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

overcoat buttoned up to my chin, amid a scene of whirling flakes of snow and whitened earth.  This morning was a wild warm morning; the rising wind whirled ragged, black clouds across the sky and occasionally, rain fall.  All morning the wind reared, the clouds race on and on, while occasional bright sunlight livened the earth.  At noon the air had become much colder and as afternoon came on, the wind roared and whistled with furious violence, and at times flurries of snow were hurled through the air.  After school, a snow-storm set in in ernest and until I felt asleep the storm roared on, unabating.

At school we have been ordering our commencement invitations and cards.  I only ordered five extra ones, (the free list is twenty three) and a hundred cards of plain Old English.  Most of the fellows are ordering from Bill Windle’s cousing.  Where they say they can get them cheaper, while most of the girls are ordering from Harris’, - a local firm -.  But however cheap they are, they are not engraved and I wouldn’t have any but engraved ones.

I’m an awful fabricator.  Bill asked me what time I got in last night to which I replied eleven o’clock (it was nine) and said that we had a regular “rip-snorting time” and casually mentioned the broom episode as an evidence of our