Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 September 1894 — SIGNS HIS FULL NAME NOW. [ARTICLE]

SIGNS HIS FULL NAME NOW.

A Clubman's Embarrassing Experience After Writing a Lore Letter. “Do you know," said Mr. Man to a New York Tribune reporter the other evening at the roor garden, “that the boys at the club have a merry and most distressing ‘find 1 on me. I suppose it's one of the inevitable consequences of renouncing bachelorhood that a man lays himself open to attack from the most unsuspected juarters. Now, loyal citizen as I im, I have received a bitter blow from the United States Government It stabbed me, Using the dead letter office as a dagger. It was like this: Just a month ago"at the club I wrote a letter to the girl I am going to marry. I had told only two or three of my intimate friends of the engagement, and we were not going to announce it until fall. Well, as I was saying. 1 wrote to Alice Jevons that day at the club, and told her how fond I was of her. I loved her very hard that day, and I used some strong expressions: I suppose my heart ran away with my pen, so to speak. “To make a short story a little longer, I sat down by the window to direct the envelope. I got to gazing out on the fleecy clouds floating across the blue depths of the sky, and thinking about her, as a man does, vou'know. Well, I suppose I directed the letter wrong. It never reached her. Instead of that, a month later came a nasty-looking official envelope addressed to ‘Loving Tom,’ in care of the club. The postuttlce people had not been able to And the girl, so they \tried to send the drivel back to the one who wrote it, and their only clue was the signature and the engraved letter-head. Well, nobody at the club could fancy who ‘Loving Tom’ was, so the house committee opened the envelope. The first thing they saw was ‘Dearest Alice,’ aud the first sentence was absolute inanity. Then they recognized my writing and forebore to read further." Mr. Man stopped to wipe from his brow the perspiration which sprang forth at the thought of his mortification. “Well, there’s just one thing about it,” he added, thoughtfully, “I’ll never again sign myself anything but my full name, even if I live to be a regular Methuselah, and write to Mrs. Methuselah every day.”