"I WONDER if George will write" Nancy said to me at the breakfast table one morning last winter. George was a recent guest of ours who had been eating our breakfast bacon for a few days and occupying my comfortable bed while I bunked on a hard cot in the cold attic.
"Very unlikely," I replied, for I am older than Nancy, and have had experience with summer school lectures and interscholastic visitors and delegates to societies and conventions who have lodged with me for a season and have never afterwards been heard from. My faith, therefore, was weak.
Most men pay their taxes—and some pay their class dues and their laundry bills—but too few pay the little debts of courtesy which they owe to those who have entertained them or who have shown them thoughtful kindnesses. In time we answer a business letter, or an invitation to dinner, but to our friends, unless we want something, we seldom write. There are various reasons for this. Unless when the inspiration or the kindly thought seizes us we "take our pen in hand" we are likely to procrastinate; tomorrow, we argue, will do as well as today. Sometimes the happy phrase does not occur to us; we do not quite know what to say, and we are afraid we may say the wrong or the awkward thing. Perhaps it may be selfishness that holds us back from voicing our thanks, or our congratulations, or our words of condolence to our friends, and the letter is not written and the debt is not paid. Sometimes it is ignorance or inexperience or self-consciousness; we do not realize that the conventions of society require that we should pay these obligations, just as we must call after we have been to a dinner party, or must pay the gas bill before the tenth of the month if we expect the discount.
Nothing brings more pleasure than the unexpected personal letter, the gracious note of thanks, or a line of congratulation when one has met with happiness or good fortune. It's like getting an unexpected check from home, or having one's salary raised, or finding a five dollar bill in an old pair of trousers.
Don't come in on a freight train. Christmas letters should get off before Easter; letters of congratulation should not be delayed until the event has lost its joy or has been forgotten. If Interscholastic is in May, you should write your letter of thanks before August. Even from a purely selfish point of view it would be a good thing to learn and practice the art of paying these social debts. There are few things that bring one surer favor, or that give one better standing with one's friends than a reputation for thoughtfulness in letter writing.
I met George in Detroit last week. He told me that he had enjoyed my bed and Nancy's bacon, and he apologized—he really had intended to write.
May