LADY RUM-DI-DOODLE-DUM’S
CHILDREN
John and Mary leaned forward and saw in the
glass hundreds of lovely colors. (Page 126.)]
LADY
RUM-DI-DOODLE-DUM’S
CHILDREN
BY
S. B. DINKELSPIEL
Which is Dedicated to My Mother, Your Mother,
and Lady Rum-Di-Doodle-Dum, Who is the
Mother of all the Bald-Headed, Pug-Nosed Little
Baby Creatures in the World, and to the Child-Person
for whom Lady Rum-Di-Doodle-Dum
winked one evening when I asked her to do so.
New York
Desmond FitzGerald, Inc.
Copyright, 1914, by
Desmond FitzGerald, Inc.
PREFACE
(TO BE READ)
The Dictionary says that a Preface is somethingspoken before. Usually it gives the authoran opportunity to talk about himself. Someauthors talk very much, especially about themselves,in their Preface. Mr. George BernardShaw writes more Preface than Book, and ThéophileGautier simply uses the Book as an excusefor the Preface. But you do not need to worry,as you will not read either of them for a verylong time.
My Preface is going to be different. It isabout something that comes at the end and notthe beginning; furthermore, I am not going totalk about myself.
Of course you do not know what in the worldI am driving at; I will come at once to the point.I had all but finished the stories of Lady Rumdidoodledum’schildren when I received the followingletter. I have a pretty good idea that“L. H. D.” is no other than the Child-Personfor whom Lady Rumdidoodledum winked.
[vi]
“Mr. S. B. Dinkelspiel,
“Dear Sir,——
“I have the honor to inform you that Mrs.Sherman is the mother of a lovely new babydaughter, born this evening. She is to be christened‘Margaret,’ but will be known to her friends(of whom I trust you will be among the number)as ‘Midge.’ Liza and Martha Mary are delightedover the new arrival—the boys have not yet seenthe little lady.
“Hoping that she will prove as welcome to youas to the rest of her very devoted family, I am,sir,
“Your very obedient servant and humble collaborator,
L. H. D.”
The Planet Venus.
A day or so later, a thick envelope camethrough the mail for me.
“Is it,” said I to myself, “another of my storiesrejected by a heartless editor?”
It was not! It was the story of “Midge,” written