Dear Lucius: I am very sorry that you cannot come to dinner on the 20th, but I understand the necessity for your trip to the West. The following week I am giving my final stag before the fall season opens, but unless you object I shall put your name on the list for one of the October or November affairs.1
In the meantime I should like to see you at any time that might be convenient to us both, and so, for this reason, I am telling you now as much of my summer plans as I can predict with any faint degree of accuracy. I hope to leave Washington about August first to run out to the Governors' Conference in Seattle.2 The date of Congressional adjournment will determine whether or not I then come back to Washington or stop off in Denver for a four or five weeks stay. In either event, I do hope to get to Denver as early in August as possible and to stay there certainly a good month.3
It is possible that I should have to come to New York on August nineteenth. On that day there is a ceremony honoring Bernie Baruch on his eighty-third birthday. I think that Bernie himself would be anxious for me to avoid interruption of my vacation period in order to come--there certainly is no doubt in his mind of my respect, admiration and liking for him. On the other hand, some of his friends are very urgent in their conviction that it would be a slap in the old gentleman's face if I were not present at the ceremony.4 Consequently, if I do come I will reach New York in the morning, attend the ceremony, and return to Denver the same evening--a ratherlong and tiring trip just to carry out the minor part I will have in the program. I should have said that I am not down for any major speech; merely to bring greetings from an old friend.
What I am leading up to is this; while I would not want to stay even fifteen minutes longer in New York than necessary, if you could go back with me to Denver at that time I could haul you back; we could have a couple of days fishing up in the highlands (easy fishing in a small stream and with full opportunity to do nothing but sleep if you want to); and then you could have your own plane pick you up and return you to New York.5
I do not mean by all of this that I have any burning question on my mind that I must discuss with you as a matter of urgent business. I simply find that many of the questions with which I deal sooner or later involve German affairs, military preparedness, industrial mobilization, and the civil functions of the Corps of Engineers. In all of these you are widely experienced and I, of course, value your judgment--so what I am talking about is merely a chance to talk over a lot of things with someone who has no axe to grind and in whose loyal friendship I have complete confidence. That is all there is to it--but you can see how important it is to me.
In the meantime, if you should be down this way any time during this month, be sure to arrange for an overnight stay at the White House.6 Mamie and I would love to have you and Marjorie7 for a night--we could have lots of fun. All we would need is enough notice to be sure that our own evening was free on the date you could be here.
Give my love to Marjorie and remember me warmly to the children when you write to them--and, of course, all the best to yourself.8
As ever
