Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

and gave them to King. In the afternoon, Bill and I teased him together. We would keep up and incessent chatter of insults, “Now Waldo”’s and “O you Waldo”’s and when we had him worked up to a proper pitch, Bill would say “Ho, We got Waldo on his little red wagon again,” at which Waldo exploded. Once Bill said he wasn’t going to talk for an hour, but there was so much talk goingon around him that he gave it up in despair. We are all wondering why we haven’t been kicked out before.

     This evening there was a wonderful sunset. The clouds themselves were interesting to watch - they were so odd and drifting and misty. At first a clear smooth orange light spread, over the northwestern sky_, that was beautiful to look at. I went out in the backyard to watch it. Then many bars of soft grey clouds, melting into yellow streaks formed a series of perfect arches over the sun, around which the sky was very yellow. At one end of the arches, the grey and yellow mingled so that it looked as tho a painter that scattered grey paint on an expanse of yellow. As the sun vanished, the clouds turned to long stretching streaks of pink, purple and grey. Robins began to sing their evening melodies and I turned to look at my flower-garden.

After supper I had the high honor of drawing a pro-