Miss Agnes McHolstein.
69. Wabash Avenue.
Beaver Valley.
Colorado.
December 14th, 1910.
Dearest John,
What a delightful surprise this morning when the postman delivered your charming gift- a partridge in a pear tree. You couldn’t have pleased me more.
With all my fondest love, Agnes.
December 15th.
Dearest John,
And yet another sweet gift from you by this morning’s mail. Just imagine- two turtle doves. They are absolutely adorable.
All my deepest love, Agnes.
December 16th.
Dear John,
You are an extravagant one but I really must protest- three French hens. I don’t deserve such generosity and I feel that you should know that I am running out of space for all these birds.
Love, Agnes.
December 17th.
Dear John,
The postman has just delivered four calling birds. They are beautiful but don’t you think enough is enough?
Affectionately, Agnes.
December 18th.
Dearest John,
You really surprised me this time- five gold rings. One for each finger. You are quite impossible but I love you for it all the same. I feel I ought to tell you that the squawking of all these birds is beginning to get a little bit on my nerves.
All my love, Agnes.
Dec. 19th.
Dear John,
So we are back to bloody birds again! Six geese a-laying on my front doorstep this morning. Where the hell am I going to keep them? They’re huge. Please stop John. The neighbours have started complaining and I can’t sleep through all this racket.
Cordially, Agnes.
Dec. 20th.
John,
What is it with you and all these F- ing birds? Seven swans a- swimming. What kind of goddamn joke is this? These birds shit all over the lawn and the racket never stops. I’m becoming a nervous wreck. For Christ’s` sake, stop with the bloody birds.
Cordially, Agnes.
Dec. 21st.
OK you bastard,
What am I to do with eight maids a-milking? Especially when they bring their goddamn cows with them. I prefer the birds. There are feathers and crap all over the house, it’s beginning to look like a bloody zoo. Lay off me smart arse.
Agnes.
Dec. 22nd.
You rotten sod! What kind of sadist are you?? Nine pipers piping! That is, if they’re not chasing the maids into the bushes and upsetting the cows, who keep stepping on the f-ing birds. The neighbours have started a petition to have me evicted. Jesus but you’ll get yours!
Agnes.
Dec.23rd.
You filthy skunk! Now it’s ten ladies dancing, who spend all their time being humped by those bloody pipers, all night long and that’s not all.. the cows have diarrhoea , my living-room is a river of shit. There are birds all over the loo and goose feathers in my bed. You’ll rue the day you swine.
Agnes.
Dec. 24th.
Shit Bag! Now there are eleven lords a-leaping, all over the maids and sluts. They drove off the pipers, who are now committing sodomy with the cows. All twenty-three birds have been trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you are satisfied you malicious prick!
Your sworn enemy, Agnes.
Dec. 25th.
Dear Sir,
We wish to acknowledge your gift of twelve fiddlers fiddling which you saw fit to inflict on our long suffering client, Miss Agnes McHolstein. The destruction was, of course, total. We warn you therefore, that should you try to see Miss Mc Holstein at the Happy Day sanatorium the attendants have orders to shoot you on sight. We also enclose a warrant for your arrest.
Cordially, Bader. Bender & Cahoe. Solicitors.
(Thanks to Ingrid B. Mork)