I wrote until nearly twelve o'clock last night about the Byrds and
their family history and how wonderful it is for Father to have made
such friends as they are. I just described the Idol as he really is
and told what a great inventor he is without dwelling on what he
invented, because that will be published when Judge Luttrell gets out
the injunction.
I mentioned Lovelace Peyton's accident in detail, because some day
when he is a world-famous surgeon a good account of it will be
valuable. That took up fourteen pages. I am going to send that kodak
picture Tony took of Roxanne, with a good description of her to be
printed under it.
Nobody could really give a good history of the Byrd cottage without at
least a half dozen pages of Uncle Pompey and what he cooks. I am going
to get the nutcake recipe and paste it on the margin. All women
readers will like that if they try it once.
And just as I was so tired that I was about to fall into the ink-well
it occurred to me to describe faithfully the great-grandmother Byrd
portrait, especially about her being such a friend of George
Washington's wife and about the English earl who fell in love with
her, but grandfather Byrd was the victor to carry off the prize.
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