HYDE PARK, Sunday—On Friday I had a few personal appointments in New York City, and then Miss Thompson and I caught the 4:40 train for Poughkeepsie. As we entered the house, I began to feel the world of busy people and the war drop far away. The house was quiet and empty. We went out on the porch which opens out of my sitting room on the second floor and looked at the rolling fields and the trees, with their feathery red and green spring attire. To the south of us, the river lay quietly shimmering in the sunset. It was cool and the birds were quiet, and somehow it was hard to believe that somewhere far away our ships and planes were shooting down the Japanese, and our soldiers and more planes were chasing the Germans.

After a short walk and a visit with my sister-in-law, Mrs. J. R. Roosevelt, we had our supper and sat before the fire for a while. Then I went to work at my desk—much against my will, for I felt as though I had lost all connection with my usual existence.

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Until late Saturday afternoon, I went through china cupboards that had been thoroughly cleaned out and properly sorted over since my mother-in-law's death. Then we unpacked five barrels of china and glass that had been in the cellar awaiting a convenient time. The convenient time never seemed to come, and my husband has been suggesting that I had better make some time. Many of the things which we packed away at the time of his mother's death we will not want to use, but we hope our children will. I will have to devote a part of the day and evening to unpacking more barrels, so this is quite the most domestic two days I have spent in a long while. But I must say it gives one a sense of solid achievement.

Over the radio comes the news of the battle raging in the Pacific. There are so many people close to us who might be in it, that one cannot help worrying about other mothers and wives as well as one's own family.

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From Tucson, Arizona, I have been sent a sample "letter from home" which the local laundry and dry cleaners are sending their servicemen from that area. On the back of the page are pictures. On the front they print the letter, which touches on everything that has been happening at home—legislation, baseball and news about individuals. It seems to me one of the best letters of its kind that I have seen, because of the small amount of paper used and the combination of pictures and condensed material.

The state of Connecticut also has an executive secretary of its State Salvage Committee who has sent out some very clever material on the importance of tin salvage. They enclose a photograph of a "syrette" made out of salvaged tin and used in emergency kits. They claim it has saved many lives, so for this and other reasons be sure to save your tin.