Well, Pudgy, here we are on top of Maple Ridge. Isn't this the most splendiferous day? I can just lie here basking in the sun (as the Florida travel folders say), and you can sniff around and explore everything to your canine heart's content.
Yes, a spring day up here is wonderful, but I guess it will always be fall on the Ridge for me. Fall, with the maples all gold and red, and the sky all blue, you and me and .. .. and Bill.
'Member Bill, Pudgy? You used to love it when he rubbed your ears. He taught you to bring in the paper and the mail. Of course, Mother never quite liked the way her mail was always partly masticated by the time you could be persuaded to give it up, but Dad was tickled pink the time you chewed up the butcher's bill so he didn't have to pay it for a whole month.
I was so excited the first time Bill asked me to a dance - it was the big Senior Prom. I had my hair done up, and wore Mother's gold ear rings and Aunt Lily's black taffeta, and lace, because all my formals were so - well, so girlish and I was sixteen in April and I simply had to be grown up and sophisticated for Bill.
Manuscripts: Vol. 10
, Article 17.
Available at: http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/manuscripts/vol10/iss2/17