He wouldn't
have believed his eyes. He'd have said to himself: "My G--, that
can't be her with Andy Durham from that little jerk water bank
down in Russellville. Yes it is, sure as I'm of German
extraction! W-e-l-l, next time he comes in my place I'll not have
the police lead him out like I wanted to do last time he was in.
I'll bring him right back behind the rail to my desk and get
better acquainted with him. He just has to be somebody--although
he sure doesn't look it, and I'd never have guessed it."
See what an opportunity I missed if I could have had you along
I'll never do it again, even if I have to pay for a rum sour or
whatever it is you get to go with your meals.
As ever,
August 10, 1939
John C. Benson, Superintendent
Methodist Episcopal Hospital
Indianapolis, Indiana
My dear John:
. . . Your adjustment offer on my hospital bill, under the
circumstances, would seem fair to any disinterested person. You
offered to reduce the bill by $24.35, and I insisted my loss was
either $27 or $32, not knowing which myself--which looks rather
bad on its face, for me.
But John, as sure as Meharry Hall is in the middle campus, and
the Democrats are God's chosen, some low fellow (I'd ordinarily
use a four-word combination we use and thoroughly understand over
at Russellville to characterize certain men folks) there at your
hospital rifled my clothes--and got either $27 or $32 in bills.
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