On my coming of age, Doctor Doran sent me the following advice, which at the first attempt I had some difficulty in deciphering. Later on, however, I soon discovered that it was intended, to complete the joke, that it should be begun at the end and from there read.
Doran John.
Yours truly ever,
Yourself find will you which in condition the see to surprised be will you, anything yourself deny never and advice my follow you if, fact in. Everything in consideration first the yourself make. Thing bad a always is which, behind be never then will you as others all before yourself put. Difference the all makes which, it like you unless, lamb the with down lie or, lark the with rise don't. By done be to like would you as you to do others till wait. Own your as good as be cannot course of which, others of opinion the considering by distracted be not will you then as own your but advice nobody's take. To-morrow till off put can you what to-day do never. Life through guidance your for advice of words few a you give me let now. Him cut to happened I although him for regard great a have and years for him known have I. Morning very this himself shaving saw I man a of photo the you send I herewith.
Leslie dear My.
On the morning of my birthday, which was to be celebrated by a dance, I felt so ill and consequently became so depressed, I was obliged eventually to pay a visit to the family doctor, who impressed me with the seriousness of my condition and prophesied all sorts of calamities after sounding my heart and feeling my pulse.
"You must be very—very careful," he said, shaking his head. "My dear boy, I'm sorry to say it; but you must not dance to-night."
I was overwhelmed.
"But," I expostulated, "I came to ask you to make me fit so that I might dance."
"You must give up dancing for a time," he said, with great firmness.
I sank into the deepest dejection; life seemed bereft of half its interest. When the evening drew on and the guests began to arrive, I saw my favourite partners carried off, and as I watched the crowd of dancers enjoying themselves my dejection grew deeper. Heaven knows what would have become of me had not my doctor's daughter arrived late, being a very pretty girl, and, I knew, one of the best dancers there, I threw discretion to the four winds, and went up to her.
"Don't tell your father," I said. "But will you have the next with me?"
She laughed and accepted. I danced every dance after that.