I outlined for Mezes, in your old job, a series of lectures by Americans who have done things on Why America is Worth While—­and he has expanded it into a whole course on America, so that I believe he will have something new and great—­teaching history, geology, art, everything, by the history of that thing in America, and how it came to come here, or be here, or what it means here.

Well, I have written you a book and must stop—­I don’t know where to address you but will send this to the Times.  Please remember me to Mr. Ochs—­who can see things, and here’s hoping it won’t be long before we meet.  Yours always,

FRANKLIN K. LANE

To James H. Barry San Francisco Star

Rochester, Minnesota, May 5, [1921]

My dear Jim,—­I have nothing of importance to say, except that I am to be operated on tomorrow and hope for the best, for Dr. Will Mayo is to do the operating, and I am not in a very run-down condition.

I find myself quite serene, for I can look forward even to the very worst result with the feeling that there is no one to meet me over there to whom I’ve done any wrong.  And while I haven’t done my best, my score hasn’t been blank.  I honestly believe I’ve added a farthing or two to the talent that was given me.

My brother George is here, with his splendid philosophy and his Scotch songs; and Ned, my boy, and his bride have just come back, so that Anne and I are very well content that things are just as they should be.  I go to St. Mary’s Hospital where they have nuns for nurses, and when time comes for recuperation I shall go to the near-by estate of my old friend, Severance, the big St. Paul lawyer, whom I have known these thirty years.

I hope, my dear old man, that you will find new occupation soon that will give you use for your pen, and sterling love of justice.  My regards, sincere and hearty to your family, and my other friends.

F. K. LANE

To Mrs. Franklin D. Roosevelt

Rochester, Minnesota, May 5, [1921]

Just because I like you very much, and being a very old man dare to say so, I am sending this line, which has no excuse in its news, philosophy or advice; has no excuse, in fact, except what might be called affection, but of course this being way past the Victorian era, no one admits to affections!  I will not belittle my own feeling by saying that I have a wife who thinks you the best Eastern product—­and probably she’d move to strike out the word “Eastern.”  At any rate, I think I should tell you myself that I am to be operated on tomorrow, by Dr. Will Mayo, and am glad of it.  We shall see what we shall see.

I find myself quite serene about the matter, altho’ I believe my heart is so bad that they fear giving ether and will keep me conscious if they can, applying only a local anesthetic.