You read every
third word. He called her "Couzin" and he would write like this:
Dear Couzin: I am well. Am just about crazy this week to go
home. See notice enclosed you football game.
And so on and on. Only what it really said was "I am crazy to
see you."
(In giving this Code I am betraying no secrets, as they have
quarreled and everything is now over between them.)
As I had nobody, at that time, and as I had visions of a
Career, I was a man-hater. I acknowledge that this was a pose.
But after all, what is life but a pose?
"Stupid things!" I always said. "Nothing in their heads but
football and tobacco smoke. Women," I said, "are only their
playthings. And when they do grow up and get a little
intellagence they use it in making money."
There has been a story in the school--I got it from one of
the little girls--that I was disapointed in love in early youth,
the object of my atachment having been the Tener in our Church
choir at home. I daresay I should have denied the soft
impeachment, but I did not. It was, although not appearing so at
the time, my first downward step on the path that leads to
destruction.
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