Volume 3 — Our Rural Mail Box
Reading edition
I. Scream—You ask me to publish the story entitled “Heaven’s Above” and I am herewith complying, poetical style:
I kissed the dimple in her chin, Her cheeks suffused with red; Reprovingly she looked at me, “Heaven’s above!” she said.
Maybe you don’t think that this is the true version, but it is the only one we can think of at present.
* * *
Yucan Haver—Your friend, when he said you had eyes like a certain star, probably referred to Ben Turpin’s.
* * *
Al A. Baster—Yes, it is very embarrassing for the young man who tries to stop a lady’s nose-bleed by putting a bunch of cold keys down her back, especially if it is at a fancy dress ball.
* * *
George—Good looks, money, a car, help along the male flirt—but the only indispensable requisite is a chilled steel nerve.
* * *
Philosophy of the Modern Flapper
By Jane Gaites.
Tonight when you shall gather me in your strong loving arms and marvel at the radiance of my eyes, the golden glamour of my hair, the velvety softness of my pink cheeks, while you tell me you love me, I shall smile.
And you will be content thinking that I smile because of love for you. You will wonder at my naivete, at my simplicity, and innocence. You do not know of my rows and rows of expensive jars that make me beautiful. You do not guess that untold experience has made me “simple.”
And when you draw me even closer to you and kiss me again, more passionately, while you smile at my sweet demureness and simplicity, I too will smile, because with all your vast knowledge of women—dear boy, you are so simple!
* * *
“This falls just a little below my expectations,” said the blushing young thing to her dressmaker as she surveyed herself in the mirror. As to what the blushing young thing meant by expectations, you can use your own judgment.
* * *
No, gentle reader, the bull durham outfit is not responsible for the practice: “Roll Your Own.”
* * *
“The man I marry must have common sense,” she said. But the party broke up when I remarked, “He won’t have.”
* * *
Oh Sprinkle Me With Dew!
“I thank you for the Flowers you sent,” She said. I’m sorry for the words I spoke Last Night. Your sending me those flowers made all Things right. Will you forgive me? He forgave her. And as they kissed again beneath The bowers, He wondered who the deuce sent her Those flowers.
* * *
The Modern Girl
She told him: “There’s no fun in a graveyard; give me my flowers now.”
* * *
Printer’s Note
Just as Ye Printer (get that Ye stuff) was finishing up slapping this crazy stuff in the form we received the following telegram from the boss, sent from Los Onglaze: “HAVE LEARNED THAT WHIZ BANG HAS THE LARGEST CIRCULATION HERE OF ANY TWENTY-FIVE CENT MAGAZINE PUBLISHED ANYWHERE. I AM LEAVING TOMORROW FOR TIAJUANA AND WILL VISIT MORE MOVIE STUDIOS HERE NEXT WEEK. THEN I GO TO HONOLULU.”
Well, by the time this reaches the readers, the boss will be running around loose in the Paradise of hulas, volcanoes, beaches, painted fish and sensuous climates.