Dear Mr. Chaplin,—Won't you please let me have enough money to send little Oscar to college? Little Oscar is twelve, and the neighbours all say that he is the brightest little boy they have ever seen. And he can imitate you so well that we don't have to go to the movies any more. [This is dangerous. Oscar is a real competitor, ruining my business.] And so, if you can't send the little fellow to college, won't you take him in the movies with you like you did Jackie Coogan?
Dear Mr. Chaplin,—My brother is a sailor, and he is the only man in the world who knows where Capt. Kidd's gold is buried. He has charts and maps and everything necessary, including a pick and shovel. But he cannot pay for the boat.
Will you pay for the boat, and half the gold is yours? All you need do is to say "yes" to me in a letter, and I will go out and look for John as he is off somewhere on a bust, being what you might call a drinking man when ashore. But I am sure that I can find him, as he and I drink in the same places. Your shipmate.
Dear Charlie,—Have you ever thought of the money to be made in peanuts? I know the peanut industry, but I am not telling any of my business in a letter. If you are interested in becoming a peanut king, then I'm your man. Just address me as Snapper Dodge, above address.
Dear Mr. Chaplin,—My daughter has been helping me about my boarding-house now for several years, and I may say that she understands the art of catering to the public as wishes to stay in quarters. But she has such high-toned ideas, like as putting up curtains in the bathroom and such that at times I think she is too good for the boarding-house business and should be having her own hotel to run.
If you could see your way to buy a hotel in London or New York for Drusilla, I am sure that before long your name and Drusilla's would be linked together all over the world because of what Drusilla would do to the hotel business. And she would save money because she could make all the beds and cook herself, and at nights could invent the touches like what I have mentioned. Drusilla is waiting for you to call her.
Dear Mr. Chaplin,—I am enclosing pawn tickets for Grandma's false teeth and our silver water pitcher, also a rent bill showing that our rent was due yesterday. Of course, we would rather have you pay our rent first, but if you could spare it, grandma's teeth would be acceptable, and we can't hold our heads up among the neighbours since father sneaked our silver pitcher to get some beer.