A Letter By Lester A. Rowland Dear Folks: I am happy to day----couldn’t feel much better; As I sit down and read our fat chain letter. Uncle Nathan’s plan just can’t be beat, To read this letter is quite a treat. There are so many families, both large and small, Who never hear from each other at all. If they’d only start----give our plan a try, They’d keep it up; they’d not let it die. I am doing fine, God has blessed me so, My family is well, and I am, I know. My work is steady, my salary restored. Can you blame me now, if I do not feel bored? Thomas Sherman is doing quite well in school, He likes to tinker around with a tool. He is growing in body, and looks well fed. The boys in school, he says, call him “Red”. Julia, my second, is just six years old, Very loving, at times, at others---quite cold. Quite fond of her dollies; to paint is her joy, But also, I fear, too much a tomboy. Eliza, my baby, has just turned into four, Thinks a lot of her Dad; meets him at the front door. She’s petted so much, this wee little maid, She’s going to be spoiled, I’m very much afraid. Now it’s hard to find words to express all my zeal, To tell you or show you, how ardent I feel. But the luckiest thing I have done in my life, Was when I found Mollie, and made her my wife. My children are noisy and have many woes, And hurt themselves often from their heads to their toes, And fuss and quarrel, tell tales quite hazy, I think sometimes, they’ll run Mollie crazy. But she fixes all hurts, tends to each little woe, Settles all their quarrels, uncomplaining you know. Then she’ll cook, scrub, sew, do ironing awhile, And greet her old hubby, when he comes home with a smile. She can bake good cakes, good biscuits, and pies, I’ll tell you folks, I got quite a prize. So my married life is full of much pleasure, Chiefly because I acquired such a treasure. But enough of my family, let’s give them a rest. If I keep on this way, you’ll think I’m a pest. If I keep on extolling I’ll give you a pain, Let’s peep at the others in this nice big chain. Oh dear old Grandpa, Patriarch of our clan, May we live as he has----such a grand ole man. And when the time comes, each to leave this shore, Let us join him above, to part never more. Uncle Luther, it seems, each day more and more You’ve always had responsibilities galore, But you’ve held them up without complaint, And almost live the life of a Saint. Uncle Nathan, in your isle so far away, Are you sure that the natives do that way? Better leave that land, where you’re not fitted, Come back to Kentucky, where such things aren’t permitted. Now, dear Uncle, I never once thought You’d forget all about what your good Mother taught. That my old fashioned ideas you’d jeer and hoot, And go swimming in Public, in your birthday suit! Aunt Effie, down where the sugar cane waves, Where there are blacks, whose fathers were slaves; I’d like to go there, my family take, And visit you some for old times sake. Now I come to my brother, the jolly old Ray, He’s built a new house, oh say!!! You ought to see it, it sure is a dandy, This brother of mine is mighty handy. Anna and Mary, sweet cousins of mine, Don’t ever forget to give us a line. This chain of ours just can’t be beat; Should you either not write, it would be incomplete. Beulah, I hear you are writing a book! We are all very anxious to take a look, To see just how well you can write, We’ll all buy one, and read with delight. Clarice, way down on the Tennessee line, You surely are making your light brightly shine In your work there in Linda, a great work indeed, For those wonderful people, so very much in need. There’s another teacher in our ranks, And I’ll just bet he never spanks! For if all the reports I hear are true, St. Helens must think that Dudley will do. Myrtle, I hear---in the papers, have read, That Luther was selected Owsley’s school head. That’s an honor that few of us ever attain, I’m sure you’ll like living in Owsley again. Aunt Ruth is quite wise to keep on with her work, Not letting the duties of her postoffice shirk, I’m sure this gives her lots of pleasure in life, And makes her not apt, to again, be a wife. Aunt Ida and Aunt Nellie have had burdens to bear, But they’re always ready, other’s troubles to share. To visit them is quite a treat, They’re both good cooks; just can’t be beat! Oh Ada, and Jimmie, Sissie and Joe---- The chain wants to thank you, we’re grateful I know, For the work you’ve done, getting the Highway let, Just think of the company you’ll soon get! Now Bessie, I really am not annoyed, For your keeping us mail clerks all employed; By mailing to him a letter each day, Keep up the good work, keep it up, I say! Winnie, I’m sure you have many joys, With Breck, and Ella, and your three fine boys, In your great big house, so nice and neat, In Winchester town, on shady Fitch street. Now last, but not least, are Mother and Dad, The very best parents, a feller ever had. To visit them, oh what a joy---- To just be again, their own little boy. Now folks, I’ve reached the end of my song, Hurry up and write, send the chain along. If you’ve liked my jingles, just drop me a line, And I’ll try it again when I’m feeling fine.