Dearest Katherine:
At first glance I don’t suppose you will recognize this sweet little creature, but you ought to, seeing you are his own mother. It’s the Pig you drew with your eyes shut in Glady’s PIG BOOK last year. Gladys brought the PIG BOOK along with her and the other day we got it out and found your poor little Piggy with the mournful inscription under him, “Where is My Wandering Pig To-night?” He looked so sad and lonesome we knew he was simply pining away for you. His ink has faded perceptibly and he is just a shadow of his former emphatic self. Migwan looked at it and said, “What charade does it make you think of?”
It was just as plain as the nose on your face, and we all shouted at once, “Pork-you-pine!”
We couldn’t bear to leave him there to die of grief and longing, so we transferred him tenderly to this letter and are sending him to his mumsey by Special Delivery. We hope he will pick up immediately upon arrival.
We had Lamb’s Dissertation on Roast Pig in Literature the other day and were asked to comment upon it, and Agony wrote that she didn’t think much of a dissertation on Pig that was written by a Lamb; she thought Bacon could have handled the subject much better!
As ever, your Hinpoha.
P. S. Here is Piggy’s tail;
we found it in a corner of the page after we had him transferred.