Baled Hay A Drier Book than Walt Whitman's Leaves o' Grass
Baled Hay A Drier Book than Walt Whitman's Leaves o' Grass
By Edgar Wilson Nye
25 Jun, 2020
INEVER wrote a novel, because I always thought it required more of a mashed-rasp-berry imagination than I could muster, but I was the business manager, once, for a year and a half, of a little two-bit novelette that has never been published.
I now
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INEVER wrote a novel, because I always thought it required more of a mashed-rasp-berry imagination than I could muster, but I was the business manager, once, for a year and a half, of a little two-bit novelette that has never been published.
I now propose to publish it, because I cannot keep it to myself any longer.
Allow me, therefore, to reminisce.
Harry Bevans was an old schoolmate of mine in the days of and although Bevans was not his sure-enough name, it will answer for the purposes herein set forth. At the time of which I now speak he was more bashful than a book agent, and was trying to promote a cream-colored mustache and buff "Donegals" on the side.
Suffice it to say that he was madly in love with Fanny Buttonhook, and too bashful to say so by telephone. Less