Dear Little Master: Wherever you be, do stop for a moment and listen to me, while here on this paper I try to relate how sad we dogs are; not knowing your fate. "Mamma Fan" says you're dead, that she ought to know, for all her three puppies told her so.
They miss the big giant who came every day to love them and squeeze them while she was away.
Tot went to your room and snuffed all around, then he cried very loud, for all that he found was just an old shoe, torn inside and out. Oh! said he, now I know Bolax's whereabout, those "Goblins" have caught him, cause he wouldn't "watch out."
Your lovingest dog,
Don.
My Honey Boy: You' old Hetty miss you night and day. Law! de howse done got so still, even de dogs notis it.
Ef I say you' name dey looks all round, and den dey whynes when they kant find you.
I'se hopen you is goin' to get relijon enuff to last you de rest of you' life. Pat sends love, he kant rite, so he axed me to rite dat for him.