But all the same Julie I’m glad I’m here.  Of course I miss you; as the poet sez “Your brite smile haunts me still.”  Never will I ferget what a beautiful picture you made the Sunday before I left when I was rowin you round the lake in Central Park.  You was settin up in the bough of the boat trailing your lily white hand in the water, and looking up into my eyes you gurgled in a voiced choking with love, emotion and beer, you said, “Wouldn’t it be heavenly derie, if we could go floting down life’s stream in a boat like this forever and ever”—­an’ me paying 25c. an hour for the boat.  Of course you didn’t think of that, did you derie.

Yours until Brooklyn wins another penant,

Barney.

Dere Julie: 

On land again, thank God!  Comin across we skidded several times and there were occasions when it looked like there wuzn’t anything like dry land in the whole world, yet we finally landed on terra cotta, vice versi, or whatever Lattin fraze they use for solid ground.

Believe you me, Julie, I luv a life on the ocean wave like a burlecue soubrette luvs an alarm clock; that is I like it a lot, but not a heluva lot.  Fer four hours at a strech I leand over the side of the ship; I wuzn’t interested in the ocean or the study of fishes, only I felt I had sumpin I must give up.  Finally, after givin up everything, even standin for some of Skinny’s jokes, I managed to recover sufficient to enjoy two meals before we got to the dock.  Believe you me, derie, you do not know how near you cum to havin to wear black, and cashin in on my life insurance.  Speaking of life insurance, reminds me of Skinny’s prayer when he turned in one night when it was stormy.  “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If the ship should sink before I wake, Uncle Sam has made a $10,000 mistake.”

And speaking of turning in brings up the subject of hammicks; show me a guy who can ride one all nite without being turned out, and I’ll back him to ride the best tricky mule that P.T.  Bamum ever trained.  About the only way to do, when the nite is ruff, and the ship is rockin, is to sit down and wait until your hammick comes around, and jump on it and choke it into insensibility.  I made out to do this better than the balance of the bunch, as I had had more practice, owing to the fact I used to use this method after a nite with the boys; when I got to my street I used to sit down on the curb, and wate fur my house to come round; when it came I used to jump on it and hang on.

Believe you me Julie, that “A life on the ocean wave” may be all rite as a song but its no noise fur a guy who was born and brung up in Longacher square.

Will rite you again as soon as I get my land legs.

Yours until they build another statue to Von Hindenburg.

Barney.

[Illustration:  “I felt as if I had somethin I must give up.”]

Dere Julie,