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DUNBAR: AN INTIMATE GLIMPSE          YOUNG

the world is famous for). I am looking for your story with pleasant anticipation and hope to soon have it in hand. 

Your poem I held over until I receive your picture as I wish your cut to go with the first work published in our paper. 

Please do not ask me for my photo or express any desire to know how I look; for I fear if you knew, our budding friendship which to me is as sweet as a full-blown rose, would be checked; because women so love beauty—and I do not blame them either—though I have not that to offer them.

I have not done as your second letter requested but shall do so immediately with pleasure in helping the "orphling."

Please let me have your photo as soon as possible and don't consider me selfish for saying that I would rather not send you mine.

I have just finished a little lyrical "bit" in seventy-two lines, entitled "When Malindy Sings." It rather strikes my fancy and I shall add it to my repertoire for recitation.

Will you satisfy my curiosity about you on three points? Do you recite? Do you sing? Don't you dance divinely? If I am imprudent in asking these things don't hesitate to tell me so.

There is so much I should like to write to you tonight if I had time, but I haven't. I must to work. 

Is there anything more discouraging than an attempt to work on a hot night, when the crickets are singing and you can almost hear the swish of the river nearby and you know that the new moon is shining on it and that the fish are leaping—and all—all tempts you out—out with your soul, and the night and God. But you will laugh at me I know, and while you are smiling let me say good-night to you.

Sincerely, 
Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2024-02-19 16:51:12