It’s fine to know you have a new piano. Sam [Loveman] says that it’s a beauty. If I ever get any money that is one of the first things I shall put it into. After so many years of negligence, however, I doubt if I shall be able to perform much on it! Which reminds me that I almost never get to hear any of the fine concerts here, after all. Money, lack of time and other things conspire to keep me away. Only once this winter have I stared at the baton,--and that was Stravinsky’s. But he disappointed both Waldo and myself by not including the _Sacre du Printemps_ on the program. I don’t care for what I heard of his _latest work_. Indeed, the _Petrouchka_ was the only fine thing on his program. I can probably bet on your having heard him in Cleveland. My book is indefinitely stalled as the printer has run out of money, but I’ve been working hard to get finished with a f!!!?!!?! _18 hours later_ _Sunday, March 1st_: WELL! It isn’t often that one gets an earthquake inside a letter, but this letter carries the evidence of one to you this time! Thank God I’m living still to finish the ending of that last sentence. I had, as you see, started the word “few” meaning to follow it with “poems”--when the room began swaying frightfully and I had the most sickening and helpless feeling I hope to ever have. By the time I got down the stairs people were coming out of other rooms all over the house, etc. I ended up with making a call and drinking wine, and so your letter has been waiting almost twenty-four hours for me to recover. The feeling was simply frightful. But you have probably read all the details in the papers by this time. I understand it was even noticed in Cleveland. 201: TO HIS MOTHER [_New York City_] _March 10th, ’25_ Dear Grace: It takes this night work at the office to make me continually sulky, and with two more nights of it again this week in prospect, don’t blame me if I’m not exactly gay. I would have written you on Sunday had I been in a better mood. I certainly resent going around and around feeling as though my legs as well as nerves would give out at any moment. I dread to think of the summer and all that it means--and it’s not so far away. I have pretty definitely made up my mind to take a job on a boat for S. America during that season, at any rate, and avoid the otherwise exhausted state of mind and body that the city, heat and my hay fever always cause. But more of that later. The trip to Norway possibly may not come through at all as there has been some difficulty in settling the estate of E----’s father, and things are at present very much tied up. --/--/