He held up the sheet and gazed at it in disgust. Then he glanced resentfully at his sling-supported right arm, especially at the fingers which protruded from the bandages in unaccustomed limp whiteness. Then he shook his left fist at it. “You'll do some work the minute you come out of those splints,” he said. “You'll work your passage back to fitness quicker than an arm ever did before, you pale-faced shirk!” Then he applied himself to his task, painfully forming a series of pothooks until one more sentence was completed. He read it over, then suddenly crumpled the sheet into a ball and dropped it into the waste basket. “Lie there!” he whimsically commanded it. “You're not fit to go to a lady.” He got up and marched into the outer office where his office nurse sat at a typewriter, making lout bills. “Miss Mathewson,” he requested gruffly, “please take a dictation. No, not on the bill letterheads--on the regular office sheets. I'll speak slowly. In fact, I'll probably speak very slowly.” “I'm sorry I don't know shorthand,” said Miss Mathewson, preparing her paper. “I'm not. Instead, I'd rather you'd be as slow as you can, to give me time to think. I'm not used to transmitting mediums--the battery may be weak--in fact, I'm pretty sure it is. All ready? My dear Mrs. Lessing”: His cheek reddened suddenly as he saw the nurse's waiting hands poised over the keys when she had written this address. He cleared his throat and plunged in. “This has been a typical November day, dull and cold. We had fine October weather clear into the second week of this month, but all at once it turned cold and dull. The leaves are all off the trees--Hold on--don't say that. She knows the leaves are all off the trees the middle of November.” “I have it partly written.” “Oh! Well, go on, then; I'll fix it: a fact it may be necessary to remind you of down there in South Carolina, where--Miss Mathewson, do you suppose the leaves are on in South Carolina?” “I really don't know, Doctor Burns. I have always lived in the North.” “So have I--bother it! Well, leave that out.” “But I've written 'a fact it may be necessary--” “Well, finish it: a fact at may be necessary to remind you of, you have been gone so long. Oh, hang it--that sounds flat! How can I tell how a sentence is coming out, this way? Let that paragraph stand by itself--we'll hasten on to something that will take the reader's mind off our unfortunate beginning: “You will be glad to know that Bobby Burns is well, and not only well, but fat and hearty. He had a wrestling bout with Harold Macauley the other day and downed him. He got a black eye, but that didn't count, though you may not like to hear of it. He is heavier than when you saw him--Oh, I've said that! Miss Mathewson, when you see I'm repeating myself, hold me up.” “I can't always tell when you're going to repeat yourself,” Miss Mathewson objected.