I was thinking of telling you a ridiculous story about the dirty window, but I guess I'd better not.
You wouldn't see through it, anyway.
Instead of that let me relate a few amusing things that happened to me while I was on the road last summer.
I always start in a Pullman, and generally come back—well, what's the use telling family secrets?
While I was doing the Ohio theatres I spent some little time with an old friend.
He is engaged in a country school, and for five days in the week wrestles with the task of teaching the young idea how to shoot. I went to see him at work, and of course the scholars were more backward than ordinary. Just as the baby will never be cunning when strangers are around.
