March 12, 1890

Dear Mrs. Squire,

I am sorry to hear about your husband’s recent disemboweling. It must have been a very traumatic way to find out that the circus was in town. I heard he was trying to smuggle the bears, so as to use them in a robbery. Is this true? Apparently all seven bears have been apprehended. It must be very difficult losing your husband like that, but I sympathize with your loss. I lost my husband not last Tuesday in a cobbler’s store. He had gotten all the way to Grand Mare Street before I found him.

Your husband was a wonderful man. I wish I could remember his name. I always appreciated the way he came into my store and read books without buying them. He possessed an amiable sense of humor too. One time I found him stuffing silver spoons into his trousers. What a funny man. He told me he was measuring them, then put them back on the shelf and left so quickly the door spun. Most amusing.

You were always such a good wife to him as well. You consistently posted bail. And you always cook such lovely fish and cabbage stew as well. Every single night. It’s a shame he not going to continue disposing of it. But you have stuck by him through thick and thin, stomach and hair. I am sure you can cope with this as well.

If I can offer any assistance, you are more than welcome to ask Mrs. Ester. I am sure she would be most helpful to you. I would also like to extend to you a two-week extension on any coupons for my store.

In closing, I wish you the best, and hope you will remarry someday soon. The milkman is a fine fellow, as I am sure you and your sons know.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Cannot-Lie


P.S. I have asked the circus to attend your husband’s funeral. You can’t spell “funeral”

without fun, after all!