in the morning, and I am disgusted. It is a very cold winter night out, and I have got a fire in the fireplace. I begun this book last October, and it is now January, and I doubt that I am halfway through. I will give 1 word of advice to any sap with the itch to write a book—do not begin it in the first place. I got 12 chapters wrote on this blasted thing and it was not easy. My hand does not grip a pencil so good, for it is rather large, and I went and bought a couple big fat pencils called an Eagle number 4 from Fred Levine that does not make my hand so tired. Fred is still rather cool to me. After I got through the 12 chapters I bumped into Aaron yesterday morning, and he said, “Well, Henry, I do not see much of you any more. Ain’t you afraid of putting on weight staying indoors like that?” “I have wrote 12 chapters,” I said, “and lost 12 pounds at the least.” “I admire your get up and go,”
