The mail arrived that evening, and to his astonishment, Jerry received the following mysterious communication:
"She who arth fix her art on the
Wil alway tinder proav
Wil dreme of yew by day or nite
An treasure up your lov
Think not tho ragin sees do part
She wil beleaf your not untro
Sheal wayt for the in spit of hawl
Not dew as others dew."
"No name. No date. Portsmouth postmark. This is a rewiwer from Mary Ann," cried Thompson. "Well, if she waits until I get home, she'll have a warrant-officer instead of an able seaman for a husband. But I ain't pleased with her going into poetry; besides, she don't mention my name. However, I'll write her a line by way of reply," saying which he proceeded to scrawl off the following: