p his eagles and teach them to fly. I am going to
touch that cash box under his left breast and show him that the devil
has a sister. The man wants bleeding--he has too many bank notes in his
veins. He seems to be toppling so I might as well register him in my
"Book of Mistakes."

Do you know that I still keep a record of these undying passions of mine
with a picture of each culprit attached, and Carlton is 999. I thought,
when I was sixteen, I would record the one divine fire that was
like to consume me, and now I have eighteen volumes of this
105-degrees-in-the-shade literature, all bound alike in a perfect
_edition de luxe_. I'd rather regret what I have done than what I have
not done. You dear old ostrich, I can hear you sigh over me, but don't
you waste your gasoline. You, too, should have callouses on your
emotions by this time.

Bunky and Othello have both decided to bark at my chemiselets and
skirtlets in one,--maybe they think they are too flossy to be concealed.
I agree there.

Phyllis Lathop's lawyer, Mr. Maryan Soe Early, got her decree for her
last week and she flew back on the 3.30 train to Manhattan and Gordon
Booth. Of course everyone knows that he is booked.

Her plea was extreme cruelty; said her husband struck her. The dear old
judge asked her to explain in detail some of the circumstances of her
husband's brutality. She said: "While crossing Lake Michigan there was a
terrible storm on, and as my husband was descending from the upper
berth, the boat lurched and he struck me with his elbow." Phyllis said
the judge smiled very broadly and gave her her decree on "Extreme
Nerve," instead of "Extreme Cruelty."

She writes that she and Gordon are having such times together--batting
around their old stamping ground, Bronx Park--strange how hard it is to
overcome habits. They slink off to the New York woman's trysting place
when there is no longer any reason for secrecy. One bitter cold day last
winter Bern and I met Phyllis and Gordon in the very spot that we always
frequented, and poor individuals were stamping their feet to keep them
from freezing. The monkey house was full of people and they dared not
remain there any longer. We all smiled as much as to say: "You don't
tell, and I certainly won't." Not a word ever came out, so the treaty
was well kept. Bern and I were more or less engaged at the time.

We laughed over it when she was out here, and I asked her why she never
repeated it, as she never