ill be some time before we can read "The Jungle Book" to the Urchin.
In the summer, when the elephants take their bath outdoors, we'll go
again. And the last thing the Urchin said that night as he fell asleep
was, "Mokey kicking the grass away."

FELLOW CRAFTSMEN

Robert Urwick, the author, was not yet so calloused by success that he
was immune from flattery. And so when he received the following letter
he was rather pleased:

Mr. Robt. Urwick, dear sir I seen your story in this weeks Saturday Evn
Cudgel, not that I can afford to buy journals of that stamp but I pick
up the copy on a bench in the park. Now Mr. Urwick I am a poor man but I
was brought up a patron of the arts and I am bound to say that story of
yours called Brass Nuckles was a fine story and I am proud to compliment
you upon it. Mr. Urwick that brings me to another matter upon which I
have been intending to write you upon for a long time but did not like
to risk an intrusion. I used to dable in literature to some little
extent myself if that will lend a fellow feeling for a craftsman in
distress. I am a poor man, out of work through no fault of mine but on
account of the illness of my wife and my sitting up with her at nights
for weeks and weeks I could not hold my job whch required mentle
concentration of a vigorous sort. Now Mr. Urwick I have a sick wife and
seven children to support, and the rent shortly due and the landlord
threatens to eject us if I don't pay what I owe. As it happens my wife
and I are hoping to be blessed again soon, with our eighth. Owing to my
love and devotion for the fine arts we have named all the earlier
children for noted authors or writers Rudyard Kipling, W.J. Bryan, Mark
Twain, Debs, Irvin Cobb, Walt Mason and Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Now Mr.
Urwick I thought that I would name the next one after you, seeing you
have done so much for literature Robert if a boy or Roberta if a girl
with Urwick for a middle name thus making you a godfather in a manner of
speaking. I was wondering whether you would not feel like making a
little godfathers gift for this innocent babe now about to come into the
world and to bare your name. Say twenty dollars, but not a check if it
can be avoided as owing to tempry ambarrassment I am not holding any
bank account, and currency would be easier for me to convert into the
necesity of life.

I wrote this letter once before but tore it up fearing to intrude, but
now my need compels me to be fra