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Updated: May 3, 2025
They were sitting and smiling at each other against a background of Mark Twain's life-sized head in a broad gilt frame. They faced another life-sized head of Browning, also autographed, but they liked looking at each other better. Joy, from her hiding-place, could feel the current of their happiness and youth, and it made her very warm in her soul, and comfortable.
Doctor's bills, drug bills, grocery bills, became more and more formidable. One day Rose was reduced to selling two of Papa Claude's autographed photographs. "I wouldn't do that yet," said Quin, who had begun to walk to the factory to save carfare. "Those old boys and girls are his friends; we can't sell them. I can see him now talking to 'em through his pipe smoke.
"No," said Annie. Von Rosen laughed. He knew what was coming, or thought that he did. "I see," said Aunt Susan, "that you have forty-two copies of Margaret Edes' book, The Poor Lady, and I have always thought it was a very silly book, and you can't exchange them for every single one is autographed." It was quite true. Poor Margaret Edes had autographed the forty-two.
He noticed the silver and ivory on the dressing-table; the large silver-framed photographs an autographed one of the Queen of Wartenburg Molly Gaverick and Rosamond Tallant in Court veil and feathers, Joan Gildea at her type-writer the confusion of books, the embroidered coverlet on the large bed, the bush-made couch at its foot upholstered in rose-patterned chintz on which she had seated herself.
I stop at Topeka and visit Dad Rother ... a columnist on a newspaper there, of more than local fame ... an obviously honest-to-God bachelor ... he is afflicted with dandruff and his hair is almost gone. He shows me photographs of Mackworth and of Uncle Bill Struthers, each autographed with accompanying homely sentiment.
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