If you have come to robb mi house you'd better save yourselfs the
trouble. My silver spoons are all made of led, and my diamonds are
only window glass. If you must steel something steel the boyled
eggs, because I don't like boyled eggs anyhow. Also plese if you
get overcome with remoss for having robbed a poor old man like me
and want to give yourselfs upp to the poleese, you can ring up the
poleese over the tellyfone in Miss Mollie Wisslebinkie's house up
on Broadway.
Yoors trooly,
THE UNWISEMAN.
P. S. If you here me coming while you are robbing me plese run,
because I'm afraid of burgylers, and doo not want to mete enny.
N. G. If you can't rede my handwriting you'd better get someboddy
who can to tell you what I have ritten, because it is very
important. Wishing you a plesant time I am egen as I sed befour
Yoors tooly,
THE UNWISEMAN.
"What nonsense," said Mollie, as she read this extraordinary production.
"As if the burglars would pay any attention to a notice like that."
[Illustration: "It might make 'em laugh so they'd have fits; and then
they couldn't burgle."]
"Oh, they might!" said Whistlebinkie. "It might make 'em laugh so they'd
have fits, and then they couldn't burgle. But what is that other placard
he has pinned on the wall?"
"That," said Mollie, as she investigated the second placard, "that
seems to be a lot of rules for the kitchen. He's a queer old man for
placards, isn't he?"
"Indeed he is," said Whistlebinkie. "What do the rules say?"
"I'll get 'em down," said Mollie, mounting a chair and removing the
second placard from the wall. Then she and Whistlebinkie read the
following words: