A Correct Letter from an Indignant Father to an Editor of Low Ideals
To the Editor: Sir:
I have a son—a little fourteen-year-old boy who proudly bears my
name. This lad I have brought up with the greatest care. I have
spared no pains to make him an upright, moral, God-fearing youth.
I had succeeded, I thought, in inculcating in him all those
worthy principles for which our Puritan fathers fought
and—aye—died. I do not believe that there existed in our
neighborhood a more virtuous, more righteous boy.
From his earliest childhood until now Mrs. Pringle and I have
kept him carefully free from any suggestion of evil. We have put
in his hands only the best and purest of books; we have not
allowed him to attend any motion picture performances other than
the yearly visit of the Burton Holmes travelogues, and, last
year, a film called Snow White and Rose Red; we have forbidden
him to enter a theater. Roland (for that is his name) has never
in his life exhibited any interest in what is known as sex.
Sir, you may imagine my chagrin when my Roland—my boy who, for
fourteen years, I have carefully shielded from sin—rushed in
last night to where Mrs. Pringle and I were enjoying our evening
game of Bézique, bearing in his hand a copy of your magazine
which, I presume, he had picked up at some so-called friend’s
house. “Papa, look,” said my boy to me, pointing to the cover of
the magazine. “What are these?”
Sir, I looked. Mrs. Pringle gave a shriek, and well may she have.
My boy was pointing to a cover on which was what is called—in
barroom parlance—a “nude.” And not one nude but twelve!
Sir, you have destroyed the parental labors of fourteen years. I
trust you are satisfied.
Yours, etc.,
EVERETT G. PRINGLE.
A Letter from a Member of the Lower Classes. Particular pains should be taken in answering such letters as it should always be our aim to lend a hand to those aspiring toward better things.
To the Editor:
Dear Sir:
I am a motorman on the Third Ave. South Ferry local, and the
other day one of the passengers left a copy of your magazine on
my car and I want to ask you something which maybe you can tell
me and anyway it don’t do no harm to ask what I want to know is
will it be O. K to wear a white vest with a dinner coat this
coming winter and what color socks I enclose stamps for reply.
Yrs.
ED. WALSH.
A Correct Letter to the Lost and Found Department of a Periodical, inquiring for a Missing Relative. This should be referred to the persons mentioned in the letter who will probably take prompt and vigorous action.
Literary Editors:
Dear Sirs:
I have been very much interested in the clever work of Nancy and
Ernest Boyd which has been appearing in your magazine, and I
wonder if you could take the time to give me a little piece of
information about them. You see there was a Nancy Boyd (her
mother was Nancy Kroomen of Beaver Dam) and her bro. Ernest, who
was neighbors to us for several years, and when they moved I sort
of lost track of them. You know how those things are. But it’s a
small world after all, isn’t it? and I shouldn’t be at all
surprised if this was the same party and, if it is, will you say
hello to Nancy for me, and tell Ernest that Ed. Gold still comes
down from Akron to see E. W. every Saturday. He’ll know who I
mean.
Ever sincerely,
MAY WINTERS.