The Archive · 1923

THE SHANGHAI TYPIST'S NEW JOB

Iowa Center, June, 1923 — Madge Dear:

It's the centipede's. spats against the alligator's gold tooth that I'd never be able to fling you this hasty line if it were not that Jack isn't coming home for tiffin and I should worry about cooking a meal for my lonely self. I used to think that our Chang's culinary prowess didn't call for engraved testimonials, but I'm here to say that Delmonico is his middle name as compared to my efforts, and I spend all kinds of time in the kitchen, too, Iv's the katydid's earmuffs the amount of time I have for correspondence and I've still thank-yous and good-byes to send back to Shanghai, for those last days were febrific in spite of my resolutions for simplicity. Take the advice of a married woman, Madge, and when your tall beau persuades you to name the happy day, don't deceive yourself with any idea of being married without fuss or bother. Short of an elopement or a scandal it can't be done. You know how sternly plain and practical I way bound to be and how every acquaintance in Shanghai who heard of my determination was bent on thwarting it. Evidently a little wedding is a dangerous thing.

STANDARDIZED WEDDINGS, It wasn't so much the ceremony as the incidental entertainments that you-alls in the goodness of your generous hearts insisted on

Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.

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