(I’d be a postman, by the way, if I were a man. A noble work that is to deliver around the love and “gokigen ukagai.”)
I clipped off the Mexican stamp.
I will make a stamp book for my boy who may be born when I become a wife.
Before opening the letter I pressed it to my ear. My imaginative ear heard his illustrious “Ha, ha, ha——” rolling out.
How I missed his happy laughter!
Can he now pronounce a “How do?” in Mexican?
12th—It surprises me to learn that many an American is born and dies in a hotel.
Such a life—however large rooms you may possess—is not distinguishable, in my opinion, from that of a bird in a cage.
Is hotel-living a recent fashion?
Don’t say so!