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A Eatin’-turkey's hapless lot

To “Dory Ann’s” mother the poet Is two lone legs, more guests or not,

wrote to explain about the flowers Two lonesome legs is all he's got,

which he had sent to "Dory Ann" for And nary other drumstick!

obedient servant and

Dear Mrs. MEDAIRY,—With all my heart
well-wisher ever thine

thank you, thank you for the good message yours respectfully write soon direct from the far-off home of my little Bus Riley. friend Edith-And you must hasten to in

form her how sorry too am I that I was not With joy too great for pen

there, immediately back of the floral offer

ing, to Gnome-like spring forward, glowerOr tongue to dare articulate.

ingly, exclaiming, Whur's that'-air Dory And I like you—and better too

Ann'at thinks she'll git to eat up all my turThan angel-cake or rabbit-stew!

key and ice cream!” Well, tell her I just

couldn't be there, or I'd 'a' been! So I'm The little girl replied:

dancin' around now,

just as she danced, and

a'tryin' to flop my hands loose from the DEAR JIM, I hope you don't mind. I wrists, a-wantin' ever’body to hurry quick think it does not sound quite so familiar as an' bring me there, whether they kin er Bud—and you are older than I am. I re

not! ceived your letter. I don't think you under

But now I'm goin' to be good agin an stood the turkey business. New York tur ’bediant to my parunts all an teachers fond keys do not have four legs. I wanted you

an dear!

So that next time I'll really to see in my picture both sides of the tur

be there fer sure! . . . Of course I never key's legs. That was all.

Besides if our

dreamed of the florists holding back the turkey did have four legs when you come to

Indianapolis message that went with their dinner you ought to be very glad, for we

instructions. But all's well at last, and hapwould each have two legs. Your poem in

pily; and we're all the more assured of a Collier's is as bad as my turkey. Mamma

real meeting after all. read it to me. I like it, but, like the turkey, Then there was a series of post-cards I don't understand it. Mamma thinks it is

Riley prepared in anticipation of St. beautiful.

Valentine's Day for “Dory Ann,” as The little girl in your picture did not have such a dreadful time as I do. Her hair was

explained in a letter to her aunt: strait as a string and mine curls!! and is Dear Miss THOMAS,—This rainy day I about 2 yds long and mamma is so mean began a series of rather hectic post-cards, she won't have it cut off. I don't mean she being just issued here by some municipal is mean because I love her better than any authority-presumably honoring the very body in the world. If you will come to New loveliest and best city in all America. Well York City I will love you too. I wish I

—these cards, being writ especially for the could write poetry, but I can't. So Aunt E. interest and pleasure of the eye of “Dory wrote one for me and I will send it. She

Ann," have so pleasantly engaged me, that, says she saw you in New York City long ago. behold! the entire set of them is now comI call that mean, for I never saw you. If you pleted, and here proferred, in your carewill come at XMAS time I will give you a just as I'd want 'em, all at once-'stead o' present. I always have a XMAS tree and I

stutterin' through the letter-slot one at a will poot something on it for you.

time for 'bout forty-'leven weeks! can take off the popcorn and candy aples and

Both smilingly and seriously, such things and eat them all by our selefs


and I. I do not go to school this year. I have my

Her pride and delight over such lessons at home. I don't like children very rhymes as these may easily be imagined: much, but I like you. I go to dancing school DORY ANN-O friend of mine, and I have been there for years. I don't

I can't find one valentine dance with little boys. Can you dance?

That's as fine as you're divine, Aunt E. can't and I don't spose poets can So I send you eight or nine. ever dance. Mamma thinks you are very

Ever thine, good to write to me so often and says I must

-Bud Riley.
not be a nuisance or expect you to write to
me very often.

With my best love,

The Guvner he once said to me,
DORY ANN MEDAIRY. “The proudest day I hope to see

And we

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This unique tribute was paid Riley in 1913 at his home on Lockerbie Street

Is when Miss Dory Ann comes West, Our Capitol's most honored guest.”

COURT HOUSE "What house is this?" asked Dory Ann Po-litely of a poor blind man: "I've saw-in days long past and fledOn that-ere spise,” the blind man said, "Bud Riley, Mum, stand on his head!”

THE CANOE CLUB This scene is not, O Dory Ann, A picture out of far Japan, But just a Hoosier water-view, As I've been told by those that k-new.

CITY LIBRARY This classic piece of architecture Is solemn inside as a lecture And O so densely, deathly quiet The wildest rumor tiptoes by it.

Just the trees and the breeze, and a brave

bronze man, And little Bud Riley and Dory Ann.

In 1904 Indianapolis entertained Prince Pu Lun, who, it will be recalled, was beheaded a few months ago during the monarchical coup d'état in China. A dinner was given for “Oriental royalty,” as Riley described it, “in about an equally blended party of Hoosiers and Celestials.” The poet sat next to his Highness, and described the occasion in a letter to Miss Thomas, adding:

And oh, yes! Do tell Dory Ann that the Prince is just like us:—He can't get enough of ice cream!—As the colored waiter said, at the recent banquet, “W'y, that Chinaman Prince is the beatinest man for ice cream ev' I see!—I done give him three holpin's!”

To "Dory Ann” Riley sent the menu card with this translation of the Prince's actual indorsement, “His Imperial Highness, Prince Pu Lun, has deigned with his own hand to autograph his portrait herewithin sent on to Princess ‘Dory Ann’-Mr. Riley's greetings and salutations.

THE GERMAN HOUSE Das Deutsche Haus is the place, I guess Where guests speak German, more or lessAnd they who speak it less are those Who sing it more, as I suppose.

O the Park!-University Park!
There is never a care known there—nor a

VOL. CXXXVI.—No. 811.-2

be so.

& Mongli The 2 While mes is BAR

maltige And the "This come and His is you) but he aint De beste

reading poems to Maite cats and Sestie call him. Moogle.lices in Thu gungul boock, Tomas Pihe matter

Dores Cos theyr deef & Dogs can slip up & grabt first thing they from So nomore at Pressent

Yover Respefully ever thine most congully

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Dory neres hore Volniline

could not write—nor can

I ant

yet, — only in this you think is fourt time?

allusion to reaffirm yet Dear friend i sendo newer, firmer belief in a These lines to let you!


wholly compensating

hereafter. — Simply for our 3 cats names is nick all mother sakes it must & finn & mong. Theyr full names is however

The Hawthorne poem

I saw with a reverence Midlum nickum,& fimuyo the almost elegiac one

evoked. Each was of the divine spirit, and so all righteously worship

ful. For a long long Othern its malteze to time my own effort has

been stayed utterly.

It seems as though I That ime a

never had worked or Imartust one of so we

would work again ever The

-on-earth! Of course,

though, it will be reants

sumed 0 happy day! ?

All best greetings to you, and cheer no less

-though the cheer 8

seems sad from such cheerless lines.

As ever, your grateful

and fraternal yore frund & well wishre Wute soon

JAMES WHITCOMB & elute Playmate

RILEY. Then, forgetting his sadness, he wrote:


Ann, — You needn't ever seen sometimes the ais

think you're so big if you cos hes got a stove store and have been to Benning

ton! Maybe this afternoon I'm going to get to go 'way out to Millersville, and eat supper


back, and have chicken, and white gravy (which

Uncle Sidney laughs and In this letter to Miss Thomas, after calls it “kitepaste"), and hot biscuits, or saltthe death of an intimate friend, Riley risin' bread, and fresh melty butter and shoreshowed something of the depth of his nuff honey, and “milk that's purt-nigh soul:

puore cream fer the child,” as Mrs. Tilley

she allus says. They ain't no monuments, Dear Miss THOMAS,—The junior Edith, and catamounts, and Molly Stark's husjust back from Bennington Center, Ver bands burried at Mrs. Tilley's, but they's mont, writes me three enthusiastic pages of whole heaps of her home-made pies that's the vast new and dewy world now dawning laid away forever there that old Revoluon her young senses. O Youth-Youth— tionary Bennington can't boast of with all Youth! come down this way again! Then her "'onored dead," as she calls 'em in her the Dread Shadow even could not blur the hawty pride and arrowgance! So no more glory of the summer as it does. The fourth at present, only don't brag on Bennington member of our household had gone on no more till you've came out there and saw (the fourth in three years—and this last a Millersville! dear old and already sainted Mother). So I Yours respectfully Ever thine. Bud Riley.


Pauet Riley

i shood thing to emazaine Mary the
Says its : Teriebait at the agramattuekeluat liter she

That may cos my Pa says her
Pa Phunts hes a inontang
buys old shiap

“Dory Ann" wrote on a post-card the Write soon-and my! your composition is following summer: "I told mamma the getting finer and finer right along other day that I knew I must not expect letters from you very often, because

In her next letter “Dory Ann” asked you always write in poetry and of course

Riley for a poem about her school. it takes a long time to compose it.”

“Put N. Y. C. I. in it and that means Riley's next letter was true to the ideal:

New York Collegiate Institute," she

said. Riley answered: DEAR DORY ANN,—Thank you for the lovely post-card and message. Oh no! I

Dear Dory Ann-When I got your nice ain't dead at all, but just loan' 'round, like long, really-truly letter I sprang right out the doctor said, or I would be took down, of the doctor's care, exclaiming, —“O, it's a first thing I know, and wouldn't maybe be letter from Edithia Eudory-Ory-Ann,my old se'f till I was ’bout seventy years old

thank you, maam!—Oh, thank you, Mam!-which is the vurry age which the Bible And it was so lejibbly wrote—Í

mean writcalls it “three skoren ten.”

So, you see, I

ten, of cource—and its words of languidge got to be 'connomizin' in regards to also my was so well-so well chosen, and speld so health and my sole's wellfare.

correct and jeudishous that“Sister, sister, come and see!

Being a Jimpsy-jumpsy boy,
'Tis not a bird—'tis not a bee.
Now it rises—up it gose-

I Jimpsy-wimpsy jumped for joy.

And, now I've got this poem done, Now it settles on a rose.”

N. Y. C. I've another one. I just write this poetry 'cause the other was beginning to sound like it was poetry too. Dozent it, allmost?

If your Aunt whom is so grand a poettess was to see this poetry I spect she would be envious and spiteful with emotion! Long ago I wrote her a letter, and she has never so much as wrote me a word in responce. All right for her, say I!Yes, and I exclaime it too with an exclaimemation-point!

Here come some strangers to see me, but I know what they want by their looks:

One of them is going to tell me that the other one is a poet, and then the poetone will want me "kindly" read a few reams of a poem he has just begun and give him my "real" opinion of its merits — “or demerits" -at which word, the janitor enters hurriedly to say I'm wanted at once in the directors' room above. — And I don't never get no chance to discover the first hemisphere of that beautiful poem!

It was to these lads that he wrote the verses entitled "Max" and "Jim"






So now you can take a few home-lessons than he can even surmise! And then's his in equation and quotation from your Aunt very words! He is still bragging how bad Edithia Academicia; and then, with shin his health is; but the best way to treat that ing morning face, trip away to your teacher is never to 'pear to notice his cumplaining and quote at her the above striking lines, altitude to thos to whom he owes it most let the chips fall where they may!

to deport hisself at least the most ladylike I am very sorry to hear your arm isn't and thoughtful of others who is more optimiswell and hurts so to be treated, but I bet stick and Sinceare. Do you not think so? your arm don't hurt as bad as both my eyes The Easter picture of the two Ediths was when the doctor puts more Tobasco Sauce mighty well drawn, and colored too,-only in 'em and says “they're just a-lookin' fine!" next time, please face your audience! With Well-well-well! mustn't complain all best greetings and gratefulness to you about any old hurt. The very noblest men and your Pa and Ma and Aunt and teachers and women in this world, they hurt and all. hurt, all their lives and then left the brave

Your little-mammoth playmate words after them that it was really good to

Bud RILEY. be hurt, while hope and faith and cheer always helped 'em to stand it. So always, Dory Ann,” not knowing Riley's mind you, we're to take new heart, with birthday, sent him a present several every new, accommodating hurt, and really days late. Riley, in his dislike for re.. thank it for being so obligingly overcome minders of advancing age, seems to have at last. Now there's a very amiable hurt been delighted by the mishap: going to call to-morrow-as every day it has been calling on me for many long Dear Dory ANN,-Yesterday Bud got a months,-and it's the pure truth I tell you fine, gorgeously ineffuble scarf-pin, which, -I'll welcome its coming with an (not being received in any near distance of growing pleasure, as compared with my first his birthday) he most proudly accepts; and dread of its pitiless visits. Soon, though, I'll

to-day he is strutting the streets, in a new be able to read and write again, but now tie and the opulent Orient splendor of his this is the longest letter I can write, so you dazzling gift, till the admiring passers-by are must show it only to your folks-for it is

startled at the gem's refulgent glory, and the for all of them as well as for you-your-own mettled horses of the midstreets snort and se'f.

rear and run away at the resplendant sight of Yours respectfully, ever thine, your humble

him!!! And-very best of all-1 consider it Servant and well-wisher. Write soon. the very most delicate compliment that you

Bud Riley.

didn't send it as a birthday present. ThereMerry Christmas to all!

fore with all heartfelt thanks to you—and

best greetings to your father, mother and With the letter Riley sent a book and

the postman and the morning suna box of candy. At Easter came some Aunt as she comes, of the "beautiful roses, wild flowers,

'Your old fri nd pinks, and sweet peas" which Riley al

—JWR. ways liked to send to his child friends.

The following Christmas, Riley sent a In reply to her thanks for the Easter

letter in the character of another boy, flowers:

“Bud's cousin from Renssalaer," which Dear Dory Ann,-Oh, thank ye ma'am

suggests “Little Cousin Jasper” of the for the good, long, almost young-lady-letter rhyme: you wrote me last! Seems like it was about forty-'leven weeks since then,--so that's a Dear Dory Ann,-Bud he's readin' child sign how always welcum your letters is to stories and p’tendin' he's a child: and ever' one whose cherrished thoughts is ever thine. time he reads this-un 'bout the Tailor and the The wether here is simply too butifle to Mices, he thinks: well now I must send this express or I would express you a whole box dee-lishamus little story to Dory—just to see of it, so you could just gnock the lid off and if it will delight her as it delights berry your face in it and Exclaim Gee! Her ever-loving playmate isen't it lovely of Bud to send all this golden

Master Jimpsy-Wimpsygorjus sunny climate to his glancing, pran

Bud's cousin from Renssalaer. cing, dancing Dory Ann!" You asked is it Bud says he wisht you could hear him read all true in the papers about Bud building at it out loud and look and talk ist like the Bear Wallow. No-sir! —not one word of it Tailor, and Dimpkin the 'pertinent cat, and is true. Ner Bud says how the like o' such say "Tip-tap, tip-tap, tip-tap!" ist ezackly reports ever does git in the papers is more like the little Mices!

-and your

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