WASHINGTON, Wednesday—I shall give you that letter, which I started yesterday, on the installment plan, because I must tell you a little about the things I am doing from day to day.

Yesterday afternoon, I received a group of winners in an essay contest from Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. They were such bright looking young people and evidently were enjoying their trip to Washington. Then we gave the annual tea for the graduating classes of the various schools. I think the group should be congratulated, for they came past me more rapidly than any other group that has ever been here.

At dinner last night, Mr. Clarence Streit talked to us a little about his lectures on his plan "Union Now." After dinner, Mr. Theodore Dreier showed us some of his slides of Black Mountain College, near Asheville, North Carolina. This is a most unique educational experiment, where the students and faculty are not only building their own buildings, but really are attempting to demonstrate democratic procedure in an educational institution.

Then the movie, "Men Of Boys Town" was shown and made a tremendous impression on everybody. I had to leave for a time to broadcast for the Federal Employees' Council, but could tell on my return what a moving story it is.

It is such beautiful weather this morning that I am dashing off for a short ride. The President is receiving Mrs. Kermit Roosevelt and some young people who are working in her division for British War Relief. I hope to get home in time to see them also.

And now for the next installment of that letter from Dame Rachel Crowdy: "The children, on the whole, are bearing the raids well. These have, I think, more effect on the thirteen and fifteen's than than on the younger children. How a child behaves depends very much on how it sees its parents behaving. The child of today has a philosophy of its own.

"I had a good example of this the other day. I was staying in a small out-of-the-way country village with Dame Katharine Furse. There had been no bombs there. Suddenly out of the night came the first screamer that we had heard, which laid us both flat on the floor. We gathered together downstairs in the dining room around a most Victorian dining table, with the two old maids, (who had found time to get into caps and aprons) and three small evacuee boys from Liverpool.

"There was rather a silence at first, as the guns were going, Then the eldest boy said to me in conversational tones,' I wonder where they will send us next to be safe.' That was his only comment and there was no intentional sarcasm in it. We spent the rest of the night with them making them show us the safety drill they had learned in school."