MARY:
D-E-A-R Uncle Archie,
How are you?
I’m fine. Everybody else is too.
Please come home.
ARCHIBALD:
Home.
I have no home.
MARY:
Martha says that you’re in Paris.
ARCHIBALD:
It’s a house, child.
MARY:
Is that very far away?
ARCHIBALD:
It’s just a house,
MARY:
Do they have nice girls and boys there?
ARCHIBALD:
And I can’t get far enough away from it.
MARY:
Please come home.
MARTHA:
Now, just sign it.
MARY:
Should I say that Colin’s well now?
ARCHIBALD:
Streets of Paris, like a maze.
MARY:
Should I say that Doctor Craven…
ARCHIBALD:
Sleepless nights and aimless days.
MARTHA:
I think that what you have is good.
Let’s get it posted on its way.
He’ll rush home, then you can tell
Him all the rest you have to say.
MARY:
Oh, kind sir, Uncle Archie, ARCHIBALD:
Can’t forget, can’t eat,
I wish that you could see Or sleep, or live.
When you come in to the garden.
Please come home.
ARCHIBALD:
Can’t forgive.
MARY:
Yours truly?
MARTHA:
Well, maybe . . .
MARY:
Sincerely?
MARTHA:
How’s about…
MARY:
Your friend, Mary.
