. The Saturday evening post. nt meet even more day one or the other of them would try and swap alittle small talk with one of the other squatters, but it gen-erally always wound up as a short monologue. Ella said to me one day, she says: I dont know if wecan stick it out here or not. Every hotel I was ever atbefore, it was easy enough to make a lot of friends, but youcould stick a bottle of cream alongside one of these peopleand itd stay sweet a week. Unless they looked at it. Imsick of talking to you and Sis and the hired help, andKates so lonesome that she cries herself to sleep


. The Saturday evening post. nt meet even more day one or the other of them would try and swap alittle small talk with one of the other squatters, but it gen-erally always wound up as a short monologue. Ella said to me one day, she says: I dont know if wecan stick it out here or not. Every hotel I was ever atbefore, it was easy enough to make a lot of friends, but youcould stick a bottle of cream alongside one of these peopleand itd stay sweet a week. Unless they looked at it. Imsick of talking to you and Sis and the hired help, andKates so lonesome that she cries herself to sleep nights. Well, if Id of only had sense enough to insist on stayingwed of probably packed up and took the next train toTown. But instead of that I said: Whats to prevent usfrom going back to New York? Dont be silly! says the Mrs. We come out here tospend the summer and here is where were going to spendthe summer. All right, I says, and by September Ill be all set towrite a book on one-handed card games. (Continued on Page 40). I Cot a Bottle for You. I Left It Upstairs and Ill Fetch It Down Sifter Supper 14 THE SATURDAY EVENING POST November 27, 192


Size: 1931px × 1295px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookidsaturdayeveningp1933unse, bookpublisherph