Your letter yesterday sort of put me on the spot, didn’t it, dear? All I can say, in absolute honesty, is–I love you, I don’t know how everlastingly I love you,–so I can’t answer you yet. And I’m coming to see you in January. Try and stop me! It’s the chief thing in the world I’m looking forward to…what made you say you didn’t think Gene and I would not really get there?
Lyndon, tell me more about this going in Owen D. Young’s office. In what capacity, dear? As public relations man? It sounds swell to me. Was that what Mr. Adams wanted to talk about this time?
I should say you are taking a hard course, Lyndon. Contracts was always the “piece de resistance” down the hill in Austin, and I’ve heard an awful lot about how hard Torts was too. Bless your heart–is it hard to stick to it?
Lyndon, when you said “After the first semester I may be in New York” did you mean Mr. Adams and the General Electric deal? And what was that about possibly being in Austin? Law school? Oh, I do hope you don’t go with the University of Houston!–Though I ought not to say that, ‘cause I don’t know enough about your offer there–and what you think of it.
I enjoyed hearing about you walking through the parks and up past the White House…I’ve walked in just those places…Dear, do you ever ride out along the Potomac toward Mount Vernon? I love it out there.
–I think the Potomac is the most aristocratic river I’ve ever seen.
Now I appreciate how you felt when you used to drive that truck, Lyndon! Because yesterday I had to take some big chairs to Marshall to be upholstered so I borrowed Dorris and Hugh’s truck and out I put! It made a noise like tin cans, full of rocks, falling downstairs, and dust came up through the floor, and it hadn’t any brakes or horn! It was quite an adventure–I felt as brave as Columbus! But I got everything done.
That was certainly good-looking paper you wrote me on. I surely am glad someone was ingenious enough to put our Texas cotton to some new use.
Dear, I am going to write you every day it looks like–or nearly! Unfortunately, I can talk much better than I can write…So many times I wish you were close enough for me to talk to you. I think of so much to say that eludes the written words. Tomorrow, Lyndon, I shall put those pictures in my letter. For today, goodbye,–and a hundred kisses.
~ ~ ~
Your Air Mail Special Delivery awaited me tonight when I came home with Maury after dinner down town. Enjoying your letters as I do, I would be an ingrate if I didn’t at least reaffirm my appreciation, tho’ I’ve just about lost my ambition. . .
They have told me stories, and showed me shows, portraying the young fellow who seldom gave time and attention to women. His chief concern was success, selfish–yes–but it occupied all of his thoughts. Then she came along–and–well he went to the other extreme. You know the story. For a long time I’ve played with fire and haven’t even been scorched, but every man sooner or later meets his Waterloo. When I think what I’ve said–all I’ve done–how helpless I’ve been when thinking of you–there is but one appreciable and appropriate expression: “God pity him for he knows not what he does.” I justify my rashness, eagerness and anticipation by telling myself that there is only one Bird–that in reality she loves me just as I do her–and then I’m not so ashamed. Your letters help–but when you say “Fifty years and who knows what it will bring. Too important a decision to give attention to now. Everlasting? etc.” Well that’s what makes me feel like the chumps I used to see talk entertain the belles on the campus in the day time while some of us dined and danced with them after the sun had set. Why I’ve written all of this I don’t know–but sometimes I just start writing and say what I think before I proof read it. Proud as I am, sure as I’ve been (of myself) since I met you, I guess I can attribute it all to a lack of understanding of what prompts indecision and suspense. . .
Maury, amused at my thoughts approaching seriousness, says, “My camp on a hill in San Antonio, equipped with everything including a Mexican man and woman, is to house you and _____ during your honeymoon. I’m going to lend a lot of dignity to your wedding by my presence.” He is a great guy and thinks thought we would enjoy days in the Alamo, the Missions, and roaming the trails at his country home before we come to work in mad January.
Tomorrow I’m going to sit–for a picture. Told Bachrachs several days ago that I would see them at 9:30 Tuesday. Maury is also having some made. If mine are good I’m going to send them to all of my Grandmas and Aunts and will pass one on to you if you want one by that time.
Tell me when you get my letters, and if you read them–
I’m going to study personal property until two tonight in the morning. Can’t learn very fast but it’s good discipline. I’ve had a lot of discipline here of late. More to come?
Goodnite Bird. God bless you.
You’ve given me some sweet thoughts and lots of wholesome plans and ideas. It’s sweet of you to write.
Source: LBJ Library
A collection of courtship letters are viewable online at: http://archives.lbjlibrary.org/exhibits/show/34letters