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On April 12, 1230 publication of "Little Remembrances." The New Yorker.

   When I as a little boy up in Heaven I was not given the ability to write verse. So when I came to this earth and grew up to be a big boy, I couldn't write poems to my girl when she gave me the air.
   Driven by a desperate need for some way to show how badly I felt, I fell back on my ingenuity. I herewith pass on little tricks to show the prosy how to express their sorrow when the loved one grows cold.
   One of my favorites is to telephone her at four o'clock in the morning. "What," the reader might ask, "do you say to her?" And to that I reply, "Nothing." That's where the trick comes in. Sleepy-eyed and a little angry, perhaps, the loved one picks up the telephone and says, weakly, "Hellloooo." Then you hang up, without a word. The loved one knows that someone is thinking of her She may not even suspect it is you, but surely she will think of you, if only as a possibility.
   Another way is to send telegrams, The first telegram should read:

                                                          HOW ABOUT IT

   The loved one will wonder how about what. There are certain things she will think of first, certain questions which every attractive girl is asked at one time or another, but she will not know which of her admirers sent the telegram. The next day you should send Telegram No. 2. This should read:

                                               STILL WAITING FOR YOUR ANSWER
 You can imagine her perplexity. The loved may even send thirty or forty telegrams to various people, asking how about what. Think of it. You may even get one such telegram. Better not answer it.

Advice to the twenty-five year old John O'Hara: Why don't you stop the harassment, forget about her and find someone else?


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