Oct. 15, 1907. Say, but I am excited, for I have won the race. Fifteen hundred miles with not one bad mark—a perfect score for a kid is rather good, I think. I feel more pleased than I can tell. They had a plate made with brilliants that spelled “Franklin, Model G,” and put on to the space left for the name in the cup. It’s a dandy, let me tell you that. Jimmy Jones yelled himself sick shouting for the Franklin at the end of the tournament when the trophy was awarded. He said it took a live fish to go up stream and the Franklin car was it. I never saw a boy so crazy before. He said he would like to see the maker of the Franklin car President of the United States, but I told him I guessed he would rather turn out fast cars than to be president of anything but his own company. There’s only one President ever got rich while sitting in the Presidential chair and he ought to have been in better business, Pa says. Jimmy says we have a bully President now, and I guess that’s right, anyway, Pa and Levey Cohen say so, and they know. Jimmy was telling our gardener more yarns and I will write what I can hear: “Say, mister, wouldn’t de new style of trousers put a feller on de bum, though? I never seed such big wide trousers. Be gosh, I believe dey are trying to git skirts on to de men. When I put me new suit on de Governor got me last week, I thought it looked mighty queer, yet I never gave it much thought till Peg got her peepers on them. She jest hollowed and she says, ‘Git on to de dude, trying to be a womens; almost petticoats,’ says she, ‘not yet but soon. See de crease warble when ye walks. Hully gee! Jimmy, if yese can walk and keep dat crease straight de cops will pull yese in for talking too much boose. Ye will walk like a streak of greased lightning to keep up wid ye pants, bet ye life, it will be more work for ye than for a womens to keep her hat on straight, see?’ Well, I did see, and I asked de Governor to send dem to de dressmakers and git de seam took in, but de Governor said, ‘Jimmy, dat’s de style,’ but I says, ’Scuse me, sir, but I want me pants to look like they were cut for me and not for John L. Sullivan.’ Peg says all de swell guys look like a pole wid de cloth draped on to cover up dar slimness. Now what I want to know is what de fat man can do wid all dat extra cloth around his pegs. He will look like he was sent for and didn’t come at all. De tailor what made dat style must have been down East somewhere, perhaps down to Wonderland or Lynn, and got too many drinks, so he thought everyting went, even to de cloth for de trousers. I don’t know whether he gits his money by de week or per. Oh, I saw dat fine actor, Mr. Edmund Breese, in de ‘Lion and de Mouse.’ Say, dat Breese man is a peach. He is mighty good actor, mister. I wish you would go and see him. Peg says she wishes I could make love like he can on de stage. She says she saw him at de Castle Square, Boston, and he was de handsomest lover on de stage—so de papers said, but you see I ain’t it for polished manners. De Governor says I’ve got to watch out all de time so not to git throwed down. I am doing the best I can to stand on both me pins at once, but it must be mighty find to be really born a gentleman like Mr. Breese. He bought a paper of me several times when he was at de Park Theatre and he’s a good sort, all right. Got lots of good sense in his head, and he’s popular. Oh, I say, mister, did you ever hear one of them vaudeville fellows what talks down in his boots and then yer think somebody’s under the stage, or in a trunk, or something awful. I mean one of them ventriloquists. Well, mister, I have seen ’em all from Dan Harrington to dat English chap what dey call Charlie Prince, but dey can’t any of dem fellows hold a candle to Harry Kane. Kane he styles hisself on de bill at de theatre. He does de best act wid dem dummies I ever seed. Peg says all de others are dead slow, but Kane makes his Irishman mighty mad at de nigger boy he has. Dat Irish doll boy nearly gits alive, really, mister, he is so mad at being near a nigger. Gosh, I never seed such a fight as dey gits into. Makes ye wish you could go right down on de stage and give dat black nigger a big punch in de eye, so if ye wants to see a good A1 ventriloquist see Kane. Say, you will miss me gab ’cause de Governor has given me three weeks’ vacation. Me salary goes on just the same. I feel like a bank clerk or a cashier of a swell bank. So long, now, till Christmas, which is not yet, but soon.”
I reckon I’ll say good night, too, little book, for my eyes are heavy with sleep.
ELSIE.
THE END.
TESTIMONIAL
I am a pupil of the International Correspondence School of Scranton, Pa., in Complete Advertising, and am very much pleased with their course of instruction. It is plain, thorough, and meets every need of the student. I am sure it’s the “Open Sesame” to a successful business life if one is in earnest and willing to study. Study is the only password to success. This school is a mighty ally with one when willing to work to reach the very top of the tree of knowledge, and have a part in the world of successful men and women. The prizes in life are only for those that work for them, and I am heartily in the race, and advise earnestly any one wishing to gain knowledge and position, to come with us. Your highest ambition can be attained if you will only work, and the teachers of this school will show you how and aid you in your desire to better yourself, and the world, by your work.
A grateful student,
ETHELLYN GARDNER,
Author of “The Letters of the Motor Girl.”