After his batteries went dead on him we was invited to eat.  It wuz the first time I ever eat out in company with Skinny, and believe you me, Julie, it’ll be the last time while I am conscious.  I’m not going to try to tell you of all his breeches of etiket ’twould take too long, but he pulled one that was a beaut.  He kept mixing honey with his peas; I kep kicking him under the table, and finally I got a chanct to whisper “What in h——­ was he doin that for?” He whispers back “How am I gonna make ’em stay on my knife if I dont mix ’em with sumpin.”

Yours until country bording houses quit using canned vegtabils.

Barney.

Dere Julie:—­

When the Kaiser is canned and I get back to the ol’ job, eatin my 3 a day, and holdin your hand in the movies at nite, I’m gonna try fer the vaudeville.  We have formed a quartet in our company, and we must be pretty good fer up to the present nobody has fired anything at us but remarks.  Skinny tried to git in by telling us his voice was trained; the top sarge sed he guessed it was trained all-rite, all-rite, but he must of trained it selling strawberries.  We have a little Yiddish feller in it too, You know, Julie, the one who slips me his bacon every mornin; when he ain’t soldierin, he runs a little gents furnishin store on 8th Avenoo; he’s some warbler too, but persists in allus wantin to sing “Keep the home fires Burnin.”  Well Julie, if he has ten thou. insurance on that joint of his, as he sez he has, no wonder he wants to “keep the home fires burnin.”  He’s all business this little Jewish guy.  Skinny sez if he was shiprecked on a deserted eyeland he would get up the next morning and try to sell a map of the eyeland to the natives.  He’s a good business feller too.  He rote a song once, fer a big vaudeville actor, and the actor wrote Izzy to send it along and if it was good he would send a check.  Izzy wired back to send the check, if it was good, he’d send the song.

Well Julie, I’d like to see your little blonde bean just about now.  Believe you me, Julie, me for the blondes every time.  Skinny says that brunettes is the most popular; well maybe he’s right; ennyhow his girl has been both, so I suppose he knows.  I don’t know whether you ever saw this “dame” of Skinny’s or not Julie.  She lives on the upper east side of New York and ways about 275 plus in her bathin suit; believe you me, she ought to marry a traffic cop as he’s the only guy I know of that can handle a crowd.  I’ll bet 10 cents against Bryan’s chance of being Pres.  Skinny can wear one of her stockins for a sweater.  If she ever wore a striped waist she’d look like the awning over a greek candy store, she never knows when she needs a shine, fer, like Bill the Twospot, she can’t see de feat.

Believe you me, angel face she looks like a model fer a tent.

When Her and Skinny walks along Broadway the newsies yell, “Hully Gee!  Here goes the claronet and the bass drum, where’s the rest of the band?” I’m tellin Skinny I can’t see anything attractive about her, and he says “I know you can’t see anything but she’s got it in the bank all-rite, all-rite.”