My Dear, Dear, Daddy,
Haven't you any sense? Don't you KNOW that you mustn't give one girl
seventeen Christmas presents? I'm a Socialist, please remember; do you
wish to turn me into a Plutocrat?
Think how embarrassing it would be if we should ever quarrel! I should
have to engage a moving-van to return your gifts.
I am sorry that the necktie I sent was so wobbly; I knit it with my own
hands (as you doubtless discovered from internal evidence). You will
have to wear it on cold days and keep your coat buttoned up tight.
Thank you, Daddy, a thousand times. I think you're the sweetest man
that ever lived--and the foolishest!