Page:Waifs and Strays (1917).djvu/156

I am not a ‘very young man.’ Wish I was. I have never been a cowboy, sheepherder, merchant, salesman, or miner. But I lived ‘on the ground’ with cowboys for two years. I never carried a notebook in my life. But here I plead guilty.”

(Here follows another newspaper clipping.)

“‘He carried an abundant good fellowship and humour with him and saw the bright and amusing side of things.’

“Don’t forget that I am the only original dispenser of sunshine.

“You may notice that I suppress my pen name in the quotations. I do that because I have been trying to keep my personality separate from my nom de guerre except from my intimate friends and publishers.

“I was born and raised in ‘No’th Ca’lina’ and at eighteen went to Texas and ran wild on the prairies. Wild yet, but not so wild. Can’t get to loving New Yorkers. Live all alone in a great big two rooms on quiet old Irving Place three doors from Wash. Irving’s old home. Kind of lonesome. Was thinking lately (since the April moon commenced to shine) how I’d like to be down South, where I could happen over to Miss Ethel’s or Miss Sallie’s and sit on the porch—not on a chair—on the edge of the porch, and lay my straw hat on the steps and lay my head back against the honeysuckle on the post—and just talk. And Miss Ethel would go in directly (they say presently up here) and bring out the guitar. She would