Billy Baxter's Letters, By William J. Kountz

When I got up this morning I had to ask the bellboy what hotel I was in. I'll see the fellows to-night, and they'll all tell me how dirty my face was, and what I called so and so, and make me feel as bad as they possibly can. It's a wonder a fellow doesn't get used to that, but I never do; I feel meaner each time. Guess I'll take the veil. Don't fail to come down Saturday. Several of us are going yachting on the Ohio River. It will be lovely billiards.