Text: “Wednesday night. My Own Elizabeth — I guess I can spare a few minutes to tell you that I love you again, if those two roommates of mine can spare the time to go to a show. Yes sir, that’s what they’ve done — run off to a show — but then I hope to beat them in the showdown beginning next week; so far I’ve done about as much running around and wasting time as either of them, but I’m […[ beginning to get worried about this chem. Got some coaching this afternoon — the first I ever had in all my schooldays, and am going to get some more Monday and Tuesday; and it surely seems to help me; it clears up lots of little points that have kept me in darkness. We have a quiz in it Friday and I will have to make a good grade in it, and about 75 on the final to even pass. We had a histology practical under the old lady today, and (as the instructor, Poindexter told me) I made 10 out of a possible 11 points — tieing [sic] Harry Little for the highest grades. But — all this just to show you, to give you a faint idea of what we have to do, how long we are kept. I was sorry to hear of Rosalie’s illness, and hope she is all well by now. Speaking of being well — I have been on a diet for a metabolism test for Little Bro and me in chemistry these last two days consisting of liver and sweetbreads, liver and sweetbreads, sweetbreads and liver — a high purine diet — which should increase the uric acid and creatinine content in the analysis. And I’m about fed up on liver! So Miss (old lady) Garretorn has revealed symptoms of a banging conscience has she? Well, I hope she does, and hope she feels them, it, to the fullest. Libs, I surely did miss your letter today, and wanted me so bad. But I suppose you’re pretty busy, too, though. Do you think of me often? And love me all the time? Even when you are not with someone else? Kiss me — so warm, so soft, so —————— I love you — and would give anything if I could kiss you goodnight. Your own, only (?) Felix.”