Father's hats

(1951 September 21)

After I wrote you last night, I looked over a New Yorker, reading parts of it to Daddy until he went upstairs, presently calling down, "Hey - what am I supposed to do with all these hats on my bed?" Hastily quitting the New Yorker, I rushed up, explaining it was a gathering of all his hats, and he was to decide which to keep and which to abandon, if any. Thereupon I waited for the grousing, but to my amazement, he turned on the dresser lights and tried them on one by one in various positions, mugging the while until my one wish was you could have been there as weak as I with laughing. The upshot of it was he threw out one which I think was the one BQ [the dry cleaner] stretched so it kept blowing off his head as we sat in the court at Frontenac [Quebec] admiring the view.