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Mama should get along famously—they “both hate to clean.
    I never understood why it’s the people who go away who get the goodies. It’s the ones left behind that need cheering up. So I decided to give everyone going-away presents. Write a nice little note to Daniel, will ya? Tell him I miss him and love him and try to explain what I’m doing—as if I knew.
    No. 2: Go to Bloomingdale’s—third floor. Walk past all the Ultrasuede. Continue on through Junior Miss past all the beauty-hint books by Continental ladies of dubious titles, no matter what vegetable they are suggesting you smear on your face. Just past the book stand you will see a small barred window marked GIFT WRAPPING . Sitting behind the bars there will be a remarkably ill-tempered young man remarkably misnamed Mr. Merth, who will, if you state your name clearly and in no way disturb his day, present you with a large box containing your going-away present. And you’d better like it, bitch. Right now I need all the encouragement I can get.
    I wish you could leave your class in the hands of a sub for a few days and come to London. I asked Mom and Pop, but I think the trip was just too much for them. You know my manager wants me to end the tour in Hawaii. He thinks it would make great copy to end where I began, etc. etc. But I don’t really want to do it. I mean if a prophet is without honor in his own country, what about a loudmouth like me? I’m always afraid Mrs. Burke will suddenly appear, and picking me up by the back of the neck like some great tabby, announce to one and all, “This hussy is a fraud!”
    In any event, I must be off and slogging once again through the Paleozoic slime that will be my life until we get this turkey on its feet. I sent you a copy of my itinerary, so you have no excuse not to write. I’ll even write back. If I don’t come running back first.
    Try and come to London for the opening. But if you can’t, I understand. Just remember to say a little prayer for me about 11 A.M . your time on the morning of the 18th of September. Younger sisters still get scared.
    All my love as always,

Reprinted from the SEATTLE BULLETIN-HERALD

Mad, Bad and Dangerous to Know:
    An Interview with The Divine Miss M
    R EPORTER : Good afternoon, Miss M. Welcome to Seattle.
    M ISS M : Oh, is it afternoon? Already? R EPORTER : Almost night, actually.
    M ISS M : Imagine that.
    R EPORTER : I wonder, could you tell us, how did you get your start? (Miss M leaves. She has her maid ask me to leave. I am dumbstruck. I weep, plead. I cajole. I offer to take her to eat Chinese. Miss M returns.) Well, perhaps we should move on. Do you expect to have any problems with language as you go from country to country?
    M ISS M : Au contraire. I’m looking forward to it. I love a little foreign tongue now and then, don’t you?
    R EPORTER : Oh . . . uh . . . certainly. Certainly. Actually, it has been rumored that you have learned 3 or 4 words in six or seven languages in 8 or 9 weeks. If this is true, it would be a stunning feat.
    M ISS M : Not at all! For me, thorough preparation is a way of life. Semper pour la monde, as the French like to say. One does what one must do. I have never been a believer in the easy way out.
    R EPORTER : —
    M ISS M : Except perhaps in the case of fire, in which instance a quick and facile exit is not just appropriate; it’s advisable.
    R EPORTER : Well, besides your language studies, what else are you doing to prepare for what must be, even by your standards, a most ambitious undertaking?
    M ISS M : I’m taking a lot of vitamins, reading Gibbons7 later works on feudal vestiges in postindustrial Europe and trying desperately to get my hands on some speed. You wouldn’t by any chance . . .?
    R EPORTER : Uh . . . I’m afraid not. But tell me, is there any country you are particularly excited about visiting?
    M ISS M : Oh, yes. Japan.
    R EPORTER : Japan? But Japan isn’t on your itinerary.
    M ISS M : It isn’t? Oh,