Dear Helen,
Early this morning I received a telephone message from a client in New York that necessitated my going to New Haven immediately. I expected it to be a short matter, but before I had completed my work, it was nearly six o'clock.
I have just come to the office and find everything closed for the night, with nothing on my desk but a note saying that I should not go to the City tomorrow, as I am needed here. I have no idea what for, but presumably something of some merit in the opinion of my brother, who has taken the early car for the shore tonight.
Well that means I stay right here on the job and no New York. The note does add something to the effect that I should shift my plans to next Wednesday or Thursday, and so I will.
It has been raining miserably all day, and I had to be out doors most of the time, which had somewhat of the effect of dampening my spirits.
I am writing this letter, as you will notice, with a copying pencil, and if you want to see a color scheme, just wet any word and behold it will be purple, like
this___________________________________
Just at this juncture (whatever that is) I stopped for a moment and called friend Saltman. We have agreed to see "The Bridge" tonight, some drama that seems to be making a hit here
I regret exceedingly the unavoidable circumstances that present my going to New York tomorrow as I expected, but as I stated, may be there some day next week.
One more word and I am done - as we say in court, as a preface to a four hour argument.
On the way home I lived the Civil War times with Wendell Phillips in a Elbert Hubbard felt conscience stricken as I saw the "Crimes to Criminals" defined by Bob Ingersall, lived in Rhapsody and music as I watched Verdi struggle on bread and water with a wife two babes die on his hands while his stricken heart was being rent asunder by La Traviata, then Il Trovatore, finally by Rigoletto, and to cap the climax watched the panorama of events that led up to Aida.
Thence Mr Hubbard led me quietly into the back door of Antony's house - you know the fellow who says
"Friends, Romans, Countrymen,
Lend me your ears."
Did you ever stop to wonder why he wanted their ears? Well, in the play all the folks wore, were light tunics, and with prosperity did not dare ask for the loan of anything else.
Well, I watched the checkered career of Cleopatra and Anthony, and just the latter was laid away, and Octavius Caesar sent to get Cleopatra and she took "pizen"*, the brakeman yelled "Bridge ---------porrrrrt!
I see a Philistine ** before me.
You will perhaps think this letter interesting; I don't know, I won't have time to read it; I'm hungry, tired , and want to get home.
But if you say it is interesting here is what the booklet says:
"I am very sure that the men who write the best do not necessarily know the most, Fate has put an edge on them - that's all."
Well, all I can add is that I know a certain barrel of tonsil varnish, or liquid sunshine*** that could put an edge on people and after the name of that dispenser of joy we find the words "That's All;" Got me?
With best wishes for your mothers speedy recovery and regards I am
Sincerely,
Joe
*"pizen" is his way of saying poison
** Philistine links to an article about the magazine that Elbert Hubbard published by that name.
*** liquid sunshine is most likely also whiskey.
The next letter will be on July 19th.
No comments:
Post a Comment