bunch of fellos what dont seem to kno why they came. They all start
singin. Then I cant rite no more or do nothin. So I come home an go to
bed. Independent. Thats me all over, Mable.

Most of the taxis is swalowed up in the mud. Theys only two or three
runnin now. Only the big strong fellos can get to town. The cook says
its the old theory of the arrival of the fittest. But I guess you dont
know nothin about cience, Mable. When I go to town I wrap my blouze in a
newspaper. If they know your goin they give you a list of things to get
that looks like a Chinese Message to Congress. By the time you go to
come home you got so many bundles you look like one of those fellos in
the Funny Papers. Everyone stands in the square lookin like a hat rack
waitin for the three taxis to come along. When they see one they rush
it like they do in the movies when the milunares cars runs over the poor
fellos kid. If goin over the top is any worse than gettin under the top
of one of them things with fifty bundles an as many fellos then Sherman
didnt know many swear words, eh Mable? But thats history. I guess you
wouldnt understand.

An then when you get home without a bath or a hair cut or the movies or
nothin, an you forgot to get that shavin soap for yourself an spent all
your money they say "Thanks Bill. Put it over there. Can you change a
ten dollar bill?" There ought to be a law against makin money in such
big numbers.

Im glad you taken up singin lessons again. You ought to take a lot of
em. I got a favor to ask. I dont do that offen. Proud. Thats me all
over. But if that fello Broggins keeps buttin round sing for him Mable.
It aint askin much with me down here defendin you. Although I dont see
why I had to come down here to do it.