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Stanford, Mar. 19/99

My dear mother:

Outside the rain drizzles down drowsily, inside it is pleasant and warm. The clouds are one vast expanse of mist, the landscape is partly hidden by the drizzle, and all nature is taking a day off to enjoy the moisture and quench its parched throat. All California has been sighing for rain and last Wednesday it came. Every farmer in California was rejoicing at the down pour and every farmer's son at Stanford took part in the general jollification. Said one rustic young friend of mine to me, as we watched the great drops form streams in the quadrangle "Every drop means a dollar." His father runs a prime ranch. Said another rural individual to an