Friday, January 24, 1941

Dear Screwball (also known as Miss AraBelle),

Please understand that this is not an informal plea for mercy or a craven attempt to escape justice at your hands for my admitted omissions and undoubted misdeeds. But rather let this document serve to present the facts as they are so that an unprejudiced opinion may be rendered.
My conception of the charges is that I am charged with recurrent illiteracy. To be sure, that in itself is an offense that would ordinarily require an elaborate defense. But under the circumstances, I feel that an explanation of the events leading to my expulsion to the canine domicile would perhaps suffice.
To begin with, for two weeks everyone in the house has, at some time or another, had a complaint of how they felt. This very day I have risen from my sickbed for the first time since Sunday. Then, there are the ever-present financial problems which if I were to detail would move even such a stern person as you to tears at the very least. I do not include, please note, personal problems, domestic problems etc.
To nutshell the whole thing, I, a man of affairs, have been rushed to the brink of a breakdown. But all will be well if you can find it in your heart to forgive and give me a chance at redemption. Needless to say, things of this sort I leave out of letters to mother.
The scraps of info I drop her now and then satisfy her as she knows things never did run smoothly for us. The past forty-eight hours I have had a feeling of terrible desolation for no accountable reason. Mother”™s letter today explained it all, I was in the doghouse. So consider this appeal. My case, as you have noted by now, has its weak points but it would be no fun for you if it didn”™t. As the apple of Mother’s eye and speaking for the others I”™ll have to end this narrative for now.
Hopefully, Emett Walsh PS – Now who”™s a screwball?