Your
MYRA.
To which he merely replied:
DEAR MYRA,—I shall remember what you say, and I
shall see you when I can.
Yours,
JOE.
It was on Sunday afternoon that Joe met Fannie Lemick on the street. Her eyes filled with tears and he noticed she was trembling.
"Mr. Joe!" she cried.
"Yes, Fannie…."
"Are you going, too?"
"Going where?"
"Don't you know? The mass-meeting at Carnegie Hall!"