On hasty piece of paper I wrote:

Esteamed Mrs. Madam:—when nextly you see Togo he will be gone. So will your golden-fish & cannary-bird. But I will not be gone where they are, because your Pets do not crave me for food. I are not sensitive about this neglect. When you left me this morning you say so that you thought their appetites was failing. I could not dishcover that dangerous symptom. All they need was change of food. If ever you find them refusing eat in the future, do what I done—turn them loose on each other. If you wish to find Harry & Carry, search Miss Florence. If you can not dishcover Miss Florence when you get back, search Mr. Siezer. I am sorry to go, but glad I went.

I attach this information secretively to door-handle. From inside of house I could hear Hon. Siezer making coon-tree noises responded to by war-cry voice of Miss Florence. From top-tip of chandelier Hon. Robt. Burns was reporting peevly, “Fare-bye, for I must leave thee! One parting kiss—ar, ar, ar!!”

I sneek silently away on velvet feetsteps, feeling like one Spartan boy who done his duty by escaping from it.

Hoping you are the same,
Yours truly,
Hashimura Togo.


IX WASHING WINDOWS