Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

“cave” in the creek bank could not wear his shoes). I welcomed the excuse to avoid such a tiresome affair. The girls came home thoroughly disgusted with the speech by the valedictorian, Bob Hackford. Bertha had been taken to the Ryans in the Miller’s car (Miller is Helen R’s music teacher) I had intended to dodge this affair, but visions of Bertha alone in such a crowd softened my heart, and I hastily dressed and went with Martha and Mary Alice.Mrs. Ryan is incredible. When you meet with her type in fiction, you say “the author has exaggerated here, there are no such people” – but after meeting Mrs. R. in the flesh, you feel that the satirical writers are kind. Continual chatter, and preening (for Mr. Miller’s oake [sic]). Finally the impossible happened; – she brought forth some photograph albums, for Mr. Miller to go thru. Mrs. R hung over his shoulder smirking and chattering. Mr. Ryan sat unperturbed and indifferent, I was chuckling inwardly at Miller’s ordeal, when Mrs. R. recollected my existence, and handed me an album also. She didn’t want me to feel neglected.June 30, – Friday – P.M. water color of a view of am elderberry bush I (while is resplendent with bloom) and our neighbor’s pear-tree. The northern sky dark blue-violet with a storm.Evening all of us to see “My Man Godfrey” and “The Dark Horse”, a “[sic] thriller. The latter was too much