"DEAREST MARGERY,--Thank you for your sweet letter. I had a very
busy day at the office or I would have come to see you. P.T.O.--I
hope to be down next week, and then I will tell you all about my
work; but I have a lot more to do now, and so I must say Good-bye.
Your loving UNCLE."
There is perhaps nothing in that which demands an immediate answer,
but with business-like promptitude Margery replied:--
"MY DEAR UNCLE thank you for your letter I am glad you are coming
next week baby is quite well now are you p t o coming on Thursday
next week or not say yes if you are I am p t o sorry you are working
so hard from your loving MARGIE."
I said "Yes," and that I was her loving uncle. It seemed to be then
too late for a "P.T.O.," but I got one in and put on the back, "Love
to Baby." The answer came by return of post:--
"MY DEAR UNCLE thank you for your letter come erly on p t o Thursday
come at half past nothing baby sends her love and so do p t o I my
roking horse has a sirrup broken isnt that a pity say yes or no
good-bye from your loving MARGIE."
Of course I thanked Baby for her love and gave my decision that it
WAS a pity about the rocking-horse. I did it in large capitals,
which (as I ought to have said before) is the means of communication
between Margery and her friends. For some reason or other I find
printing capitals to be more tiring than the ordinary method of
writing.
"MY DEAR UNCLE," wrote Margery--
But we need not go into that. What I want to say is this: I love to
get letters, particularly these, but I hate writing them,
particularly in capitals. Years ago, I used to answer Margery's
letters for her. It is now her turn to answer mine for me.