They are in a worse internal plight than has been made known, I am sure.

I can't keep from hoping that peace may come this year.

Of course, my guess may be wrong; but everything I hear points in the direction of my timid prediction.
Bless you and little Alice, Affectionately, W.H.P.
Page's oldest son was building a house and laying out a garden at Pinehurst, North Carolina, a fact which explains the horticultural and gastronomical suggestions contained in the following letter: _To Ralph W.Page_ Tregenna Castle Hotel, St.Ives, Cornwall, England, March 4, 1918.
DEAR RALPH: Asparagus Celery Tomatoes Butter Beans Peas Sweet Corn Sweet Potatoes Squash--the sort you cook in the rind Cantaloupe Peanuts Egg Plant Figs Peaches Pecans Scuppernongs Peanut-bacon, in glass jars Razor-back hams, divinely cured Raspberries Strawberries etc.etc.etc.

etc.
You see, having starved here for five years, my mind, as soon as it gets free, runs on these things and my mouth waters.

All the foregoing things that grow can be put up in pretty glass jars, too.
Add cream, fresh butter, buttermilk, fresh eggs.