Dere Mable: Love Letters of a Rookie, Edward Streeter [best black authors .TXT] 📗

of it though in a little book. It comes to $28.27 and some odd sense.

An I aint agoin to hold it up against you that I been savin in the bank for most two years sos to have a little somethin towards that house with the green blinds. An that I got somethin like $87.22 in the bank if you can believe what that eagle beak in the cage rites in your book. All wasted you might say, when you think of the fun I might have had with it in the last two years. Those things we'll just forget. You seem to have already.

An that seasons pass I got for you for the Happyhour sos you could keep in touch with things while I was away. Keep that and take Broggins. Otherwise I got a hunch you aint goin to the movies as much as you used to.

I guess this will hit your father an mother pretty hard. They got nobody to blame but yourself. On the other hand its goin to please some girls that I know. So its a poor wind that dont blow nobody round as the poets say. I guess you wont here much about the poets any more, Mable. About all youll here is Broggins. I hate a man what talks about himself.

I suppose he has joined the Home defence. Are you goin to have a military weddin, Mable?

Im kind of sorry for your father. If you have his liver on your hands dont blame me. You know the doctor said any kind of a shock would set him off a mile.

An now, Mable, Im closin for the last time. It wont be no use runin to the door when you here the postman no more cause he wont have nothin but the gas bill. From now on the only way youll here from me is in the papers perhaps when we get over there.

Now Im going to ask you a favor, Mable, for old times sake. Take the pictur I had taken pointin to the American flag an burn it up. You cant have that to show your friends no more an I aint goin to have no flat foot makin faces at it. I may be selfish, Mable, but a girl cant make a cake an eat it too as the old sayin is.

"IT WONT BE NO USE RUNIN TO THE DOOR"

Give my best to your father an mother. Tell em I simpathize with them in there loss. Its no use ritin any more cause Im firm as the rock of Gibber Alter. Concrete. Thats me all over, Mable.

as ever
     yours no longer
          Bill

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Dere Mable, by Edward Streeter