DROP A TEAR IN THIS SLOT He who, when torrid Summer's sickly glare And, with tongue hanging out and panting breath, We all do know and always loved so well, Anon Heard of it, thought of it, On the Americans, Matadores, mentidores, He hied him to Austin. Nor was he rated in Dun or in Bradstreet, Though he meant business, With his stout lariat, Caught them and cooked them, Vower of vengeance. Sits the avenger Of the wrongs done to thy Sainted grandfather. Now the doomed Texans, Buy of the deadly wares, Buy and devour. Rounders at midnight, Citizens solid, Bankers and newsboys, Bootblacks and preachers, Buy and devour, Gentle society youths Buy and devour. Buy and devour This thing called Tamale; Spitz dog and poodle, Maltese cat, boarding house Sit on store steps and eat, Dire is thy vengeance, For the slight thing we did Don José Calderon? This is your deep revenge, You have greased all of us, With your Tamales, Don José Calderon. Santos Esperitos, Vicente Camillo, Quitana de Rios, De Rosa y Ribera. LETTERS [Letter to Mr. Gilman Hall, O. Henry's friend and Associate Editor of Everybody's Magazine.] "the Callie" Excavation Road my dear mr. hall: Sundy. in your october E'bodys' i read a story in which i noticed some sentences as follows: 膳 "Day in, day out, day in, day out, day in, day out, day in, day out, day in, day out, it had rained, rained, and rained and rained & rained & rained & rained & rained till the mountains loomed like a chunk of rooined velvet." And the other one was: "i don't keer whether you are any good or not," she cried. "You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive!" I thought she would never stop saying it, on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on. alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! ALIVE! and on and on and on "You're alive! You're You're alive! You're "You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're alive! You're ALIVE! "YOU'RE ALIVE!" Say, bill; do you get this at a rate, or does every word go? i want to know, because if the latter is right i'm going to interduce in compo sitions some histerical personages that will loom up large as repeeters when the words are counted up at the polls. Yours truly Mr. hall, part editor of everybody's. O. henry 28 West 26th St., West of Broadway KYNTOEKNEEYOUGH RANCH, November 31, 1883. [Letter to Mrs. Hall, a friend back in North Carolina. This is one of the earliest letters found.] Dear Mrs. Hall: As I have not heard from you since the shout you gave when you set out from the station on your way home I guess you have not received some seven or eight letters from me, and hence your silence. The mails are so unreliable that they may all have been lost. If you don't get this you had better send to Washington and get them to look over the dead letter office for the others. I have nothing to tell you of any interest, except that we all nearly froze to death last night, thermometer away below 32 degrees in the shade all night. You ought by all means to come back to Texas this winter; you would love it more and more; that same little breeze that you looked for so anxiously last summer is with us now, as cold as Callum Bros. suppose their soda water to be. My sheep are doing finely; they never were in better condition. They give me very little trouble, for I have never been able to see one of them yet. I will proceed to give you all the news about this ranch. Dick has got his new house well under way, the pet lamb is doing finely, and I take the cake for cooking mutton steak and fine gravy. The chickens are doing mighty well, the garden produces magnificent prickly pears and grass; onions are worth two for five cents, and Mr. Haynes has shot a Mexican. Please send by express to this ranch 75 cooks and 200 washwomen, blind or wooden legged ones preferred. The climate has a tendency to make them walk off every two or three days, which must be overcome. Ed Brockman has quit the store and I think is going to work for Lec among the cows. Wears a red sash and swears so fluently that he has been mistaken often for a member of the Texas Legislature. If you see Dr. Beall bow to him for me, politely but distantly; he refuses to waste a line upon me. I suppose he is too much engaged in courting to write any letters. Give Dr. Hall my profoundest regards. I think about him invariably whenever he is occupying my thoughts. Influenced by the contents of the Bugle, there is an impression general at this ranch that you are president, secretary, and committee, &c., of the various associations of fruit fairs, sewing societies, church fairs, Presbytery, general assembly, conference, medical conventions, and baby shows that go to make up the glory and renown of North Carolina in general, and while I heartily congratulate the aforesaid institutions on their having such a zealous and efficient officer, I tremble lest their requirements leave you not time to favor me with a letter in reply to this, and assure you that if you would so honor me I would highly appreciate the effort. I would rather have a good long letter from you than many Bugles. In your letter be certain to refer as much as possible to the advantages of civilized life over the barbarous; you might mention the theatres you see there, the nice things you eat, warm fires, niggers to cook and bring in wood; a special reference to nice beefsteak would be advisable. You know our being reminded of these luxuries makes us contented and happy. When we hear of you people at home eating turkeys and mince pies and getting drunk Christmas and having a fine time generally we become more and more reconciled to this country and would not leave it for anything. I must close now as I must go and dress for the opera. Write soon. Yours very truly, W. S. PORTER. TO DR. W. P. BEALL [Dr. Beall, of Greensboro, N. C., was one of young Porter's dearest friends. Between them there was an almost regular correspondence during Porter's first years in Texas.] LA SALLE COUNTY, Texas, December 8, 1883. Dear Doctor: I send you a play-a regular high art full orchestra, giltedged drama. I send it to you because of old acquaintance and as a revival of old associations. Was I not ever ready in times gone by to generously furnish a spatula and other assistance when you did buy the succulent watermelon? And was it not by my connivance and help that you did oft from the gentle Oscar Mayo skates entice? But I digress. I think that I have so concealed the identity of the characters introduced that no one will be able to place them, as they all appear under fictitious names, although I admit that many of the incidents and scenes were suggested by actual experiences of the author in your city. You will, of course, introduce the play upon the stage if proper arrangements can be made. I have not yet had an opportunity of ascertaining whether Edwin Booth, John McCullough, or Henry Irving can be secured. However, I will leave all such matters to your judgment and taste. Some few suggestions I will make with regard to the mounting of the piece which may be of value to you. |