OFFICIAL ATLANTIC CITY GUIDE

3

EDWARD L. BADER
MAYOR

EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT

Office of the Mayor

Atlantic City, N. J.

OFFICIAL WELCOME

It is with a great deal of pleasure that I welcome you to the greatest resort City on the Globe—The Playground of the World. My desire is that you enjoy every minute of your stay in our midst, and as Mayor I say to you that I shall be pleased to do everything that is officially necessary to contribute to your enjoyment. I know that the Citizens of Atlantic City will join with me in making your visit to Atlantic City one long to be remembered.

I take it that it is hardly necessary for me to apprise you of the unusual and natural advantages that our community affords. We have unsurpassed hotel accommodations, ideal climatic conditions, an incomparable Boardwalk and Beach, yachting, fishing, golfing, and motoring, as well as a wide variety of entertainment.

Again I bid you welcome, and extend to you the freedom of the City during the entire year.

pail in the picture. You usually milk into other thing is the costume of the milker.

Genius has its weaknesses. No first-class co
would imagine that he could help his career by
photographed in front of a grand piano.

But probably ninety-nine per cent of all musicians think that in some way they appeal to the "common herd" if they have themselves photographed in a barnyard.

"Shoemakers, stick to your last" is good advice for
milkmaid, musician, politician or capitalist trying to look
like a sport.

Our Loving Cousin

Our dear British cousins have invented a theory,
soothing to themselves and harmless. They discover that
the United States is jealous of Europe's geniuses that
arranged the Locarno treaty. The United States, it seems,
wanted to have the glory of establishing peace in Europe,
and certain Britons are as proud as a small baby that has
walked three steps without the nurse's help.

This nation will be only too glad if Europe can carry
out its plan and arrange to keep the nations from cutting
each other's throats. We shall be content to have debts
paid, in long easy instalments, with small interest rates,
on a beggarly basis. Or if that is too much to expect,
as it probably is, we'll be content to be LET ALONE.

Had we been in serious trouble, not a nation in Europe would have sent us a man or a dollar to save us from destruction. And not a man or a dollar would be sent if trouble came to us now. Everybody not a fool knows it; Britain and France know it.

We are just as anxious to get the "glory" of settling
Europe's troubles as the average Britisher is to have the
honor of paying the debts of some drunken, quarrelsome,
poor relation—and not any more anxious.

"For God's sake, attend to your own quarrels and
pay your own bills, including your debts of honor, if pos-
sible, and leave us alone." That is the United States' atti-
tude toward bloody, quarrelling, half-bankrupt Europe.

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Austerlitz, N.Y. Tuesday.

Darling children:

Doctor Ugin says that Vincent is getting better. Her eyes and head
are not much better, but general health is improving quite some. She is
gaining weight, nerves not so jumpy and inners back to normalcy. She is
working like the deuce on opera, which will be finished in three weeks,
I believe. She is full of work, and wants to do about fifty things.
May be that's what was the matter with her: just poetic pregnancy. May
be Artie was right, and that a poet never is quite well, and that
ever and anon some funny little gland, starts boiling over, and sending
bubbles through the blood and in the brain. May be it was not a lazy colon,
but an over-activthyroid-gland. Well, well poets are funny animals, and
often more difficult to mangge, that a horse with worms or a bonnet with
a bee in it.

We are crazy about this place. The air is so boisterous, that it makes
a sick poet frolicsome. The house is warm and cozy. The fires burning
bright, Sir, and the smoke going up the chimney. I have a curious feeling
in my thick but beautiful Dutch bones, that this year is going to be a
lucky and eventful one for the Ficke-Bronies, and the Boissevain-Millays.
Here's to our side. Hoorah for us. We're fine.

I'm going to Chatham, and I don't want to post letters to X-people,
without a letter to our two little mexican darlings. We love you still,
and are longing to put our arms around you. Vincent's arms are beginning to
look like an orang-outang's.

I have lots of things I want to say, but must leave for Chatham, as the
snow is about 12 feet high, that is poetically speaking.

Yes I like Ida Reuh. Please give her my love. Is she married to Dasburotthe painter? Vincent met him in Province town, and liked him very much. She just met him once. She says he'll probably not remmeber, but I think that most unlikely, if he is a man of discrimination. One does

Austerlitz, N.Y. 1st February 1926.

Dear Artie:

I got your letter, and you are quite right. It only would be worth
while to do, if you happened to be roling in money and could spare the
money without knowing the difference. Our plan, however was not as silly
and reckless as you may think. This in my defence, as you must not think
poor Ugin is entirely a nut. But it is not a necessity and may be classed
amongst "Luxuries", but one of the urgent and important ones, bordering on
necessity.

I got a scolding from Sainte Vincent. I had written you two months ago a letter giving you the devil, for going to parties and doing too much. And then I thought it was slightly impertinent, and did not send it. When your letter came, telling you had again fever, the Sainte found out that I had not sent my scolding letter and she gave me a swift kick in the pants. Listen Artie, you are in the favored class of the damned, because you know exactly, what is the matter with you, and what to do. And by Heck, you must do it. Vincent is in the dark little forgotten corner of the damned, because the poor kid doesnot know what is her trouble. She is getting better, I believe, but we are doing all things which some M.D. has told us was very bad for her. The results so far seem to be good, but we do not know. And she is such a good girl, and does everything I make her do, and they are not pleasant and we do not know for certain whether they are the right things. But you, you son of a sea-cook, you know what to do, and you just get it. No parties, until you are well enough to come to us and have one with us. Just be a good boy and rest and get strong and fat and remain as beautiful as you were in Lake Placid. Please ! And don't be mad with your Dutch uncle. It hurts him more than it does you.

I have been having trouble with my leg, which off course put the

fear of God and Phlebitus in us. I have been lying down like a good boy, and
am sitting up for the first time. I guess I'll be all right in a little
while.

We are dreadfully excited about the rescue of that English crew by
the American steamer. Quite splendid. We had been hearing such rude remark
about American sailers, all round the world, that it made old Vincent's heart
leap with pride and joy. There really must be something reasonable in
Patriotism of a kind, when Edna can feel it. I must have a discussion with
you, New docter, about Patriotism. Possibly you also have a germ of it. Possibly
I could learn something from you on the subject. Bitte, bitte, Herr Professor
Es wuerde mich freuen die Sache mit Ihnen zu discutiren.

Joyful and triumphant feeling in the Millay-camp! Howard young has got
a Co. to produce "Not Herbert" The first night, last Monday, was a howling
success. All the papers had marvellous reviews. The World: "Ventril thrill -
Best cure for sleeping sickness in New York" The Sun: "Blessed with adroit,
swift and unbromidic dialogue. - Go to 52nd Street by all means." The
Telegram: "There could be no more auspicious beginning than was made last
the
night. To be seen and enjoyed sooner on Broadway the better for world
at large" Norma is playing in it and the Times says: "Norma Millay ex-
cellently cast as hard boiled society flapper." Great fun. Kathleen and
Howard certainly have hard time, and it will be wonderful for them to taste
success and some Dollars. That's nice isn't it?

We are having a good old storm here. The trees are full of ice, and
look beautiful, but I fear many branches will be broken and torn off by
the weight of the ice, and the mean howling wind.

We got Hal's book, but have not had a chance to read it yet. I hope
to do so to-morrow, and read some of it to Vincent. We do not know where
he is. Where is he?

The opera is just GRAND, I'm dying to have you read it and let us
have your biting criticism. Gawd, if we only could get it over one of your
pink cocktails.

We have not heard for a long while from Florence, and I am worried
about her. I wonder how she is getting along. Did you hear from her?

And here endeth the letter from a man with a sick leg.

Be good, lie in the sun and bide your time.

Love us and forgive us our trespasses as we try to forgive you yours.

Pray for Ugin, who has not murdered his mother-in-law as yet.

Follow my commandments, rest and rest and eat and fill your lazy longs
with good air, and I will await thee at Steepletop, and thou shallst sit
on my right hand and drink a mighty drink.

Himself and Edna.

Enclosed a pamphlet which we received. Is it not the most marvelous
advertisement for perfumes? Oh, how I long for La flamme de Gloire ! for
la triomphe de Pleville! When you return I will put Gladdie and Vincent in
a bath of Flamme de Gloire and Artie and I will pour buckets of Triomphe
de Pleville over their funny little heads.

Snowed-in in the Berkshires.

Dear Cactus-babies:

Just received your two darling letters, and I am just off to get our
weekly mail. That means skis, courage, brain and brawn and a lot of fun
for of and for Ugin.

I just want to send a note to Artie to please never feel that he must write
to us. We know he loves us as much as we love him. He can just make his
funny little sign on Gladdie's letters. Don't you do anything you don't want to
do, or that makes you tired.

What you can do, is to correct my letters of all spelling mistakes and tell
Ugin about them, and make an educated little Hundred-per-center of him.

We got a notice from the collector of Road-taxes today, and we wrote him
as per enclosed letter.

Vincent has been reading Hall's poems. I like some of them a lot. He really
has a darling mind, when he stayes away from Rose O'Neill. I like a word to the
Wise a lot. But Gawd, what a cover. Why Artie, Knopff outdid himself on your
cover. It is much better than Hall's cover. And why did he have his photo on
the cover? That is such a disgusting habit.

Artie, darlink, please be happy and cheerful. If you are a good boy we
soon will be together and be silly and happy. And we love you so. Poor vintcents
eyes and head refuse to get better. Her general health is getting fine, and she
is getting as strong as a female ox, but these everlasting jumping stars
in front of her darling little green eyes are getting a little too much for her.
My leg is better, practically well. God recompenses the good. Gladdie your
letters make us so happy. We love you and are dying to put you in a bath of
Flamme de Gloire. This is in a great hurry. No time to say anything but just
love, love and bless you.

Ugin and Eddinna.

Austerlitz, N.Y. P.O.Box 25, 15th February, 1926.

Dear Mr. Collectors

I have just received your note informing me that my taxes to the town of Austerlitz are due. I am a low-abiding man and love to pay my taxes. But I always like to know for what I am paying. It is obvious that it cannot be, in this case, for police protection, help from ladder and hoist in time of fire, street-lighting, sewerage or city water-supply. By process of elimination therefore I deduce that you wish me to pay a tax for my use and enjoyment of the public road.

But, Sir, there is no road!

There was, at the time of my arrival here, a sort of lane, perilous to life and limb, but passable to a courageous man astride a mountain-goat. Since the setting in of the snow, however, there has been no sign of track or trail leading from my door outward to post-office, grocery-store or meeting-house. I am unable to get about in my motor-car, and the Commission of Public Highways of Columbia County has got my goat.

I can do without my mail, I can live on roots and berries, I can even forego attendance at divine service; what truly grieves me, Sir, what grieves me to the heart, is that I have no road over which to travel to Spencertown to pay my road-tax.

I regret exceedingly that I must ask you to wait until the road is open, and trust that I shall be able to get through to you by the Fourth of July.

Respectfully yours,

To the Collector of Taxes of the town of Austerlitz,
Spencertown.

N.Y.

EUGEN BOISSEVAIN

137 FRONT STREET
NEW YORK

Darlinks:

I have written about one hundred silly business letters, and if I don't take a breathing-spell and write to you two darling fellow-lunatics some foolishness and silliness, I will never believe in Spring again. Its fun writing to you. I don't mind how I spell and what I spell. Why should an alien spell correctly any how.

We just received that beautiful picture Artie sent us. It is beautiful. No bloody amateur ever made, developed and printed that. How much did you pay for it Artie? It is really awfully good, and I'm going to send you these films I took of Edna: that is I will send them to you as soon as I find them. I put them away in a safe place where nobody could get them, but at the time I remember I did hope that I would be able to get them. I'm still looking for them and as soon as I catch them or trap them I will shoot them to you. In the mean time I'm sending you some films which we took the other day. If I waited until I could have prints made you never would get them. Send them back to me, as soon as you have made a print of any you like. I'm sorry to say that there are hardly any of Edna, but she did not feel like being taken, and you know what girls are.

Enclosed I send you a photo of Theodore Roosevelt's grand son. We think he is like Stan.

We are still snow-bound. And I mean SNOWBOUND, The sun is nice and hot in the middle of the day but at night it hardly gives any heat, and in the morning it is still unpleasantly near Zero. But spring is coming. When winter comes, can spring be far away? you bet it can. When winter is gone it still is a hellish long time till spring. Them poets know nothing, all they care about is sound.

72

EUGEN BOISSEVAIN

137 FRONT STREET
NEW YORK

We have seen some birds and the buds on the trees are beginning to swell and I bet we get rid of the snow before long. It has been the most exciting and beautiful winter I have ever spent, but Oh, Baby, we are ready for spring.

Edna is getting stronger, but is as sick as ever, if you know what I mean. She has gained about five pounds, but head-ache and eyes just the same. Did I tell you that we are getting a chiropractor here three times a week? I got him some snow-shoes, and taught him how to use them, and now he struggles here three times a week. He has not done any harm so far. We are going to try him another month, and if he does not make her worse we are going to give him the snow-shoes.

When will we show you our house? I'm dying to show it to you. It is swell, and is just like a real house with all modern improvements. One room is being done more or less as Gladdie suggested, with ceiling, walls and floor more or less the same color.

The opera is getting on fine. In a little while the second act will be finished, and then she starts on the last act. I think it will make the libretto's of all other opera's look so sick and foolish.

I must go and fetch the Mrs. from her shanty, where she has been working. It is time for lunch. Also Mahlzeit, Herr Professor, und wohl bekommen. Gute Reise! Gruesse zu Hause! Auf baldiges Wiedersehen! Gruessen Sie die Genaedige Frau Professor fuer mich!

EUGEN BOISSEVAIN

137 FRONT STREET
NEW YORK

Edna sais to thank you for the article about Amy Lowell. May be I told you
before, but that is the way she feels about the old girl.

Edna saas tell them it is all a horrible mistake about Dasberg. It is
a simple case of SURPRESSED DESIRES. She's willing to kiss and be friends
with Ida Rauh, please. Also she sais she would like to see Ida again and
sends her affectionate greeting. And so do I. Did you read how Max nearly
got burned i when an aeroplane in which he was flying over the Mediterranean
cought fire. They got rescued after hours of fearful waiting. Max sais that
in future he is satisfied to stay with his flat feet on this earth. I
don't blame him.

Gladdie we were thrilled about pictures of you andnhorsie. It is great.
Ain't our Gladdie the little circus rider. It ought to be published in Town
& Country. We are jealous. And we are going to have horsies soon and after
our little behinds have hardened up properly and are well seasoned we are
going to jump to.

We have the most beautiful sunsets here, and the effect and light on the
snow is simply marvellous. All pink, and red and mauve. Gladdie would be
crazy about it. Edna is. She stands for hours watching it come, and be, and
die away. Ugin also. I wish you could see it. It is like the Alpen-Gluehen,
Herr Professor, in der Schweiz. und auf dem Brocken im Schwarz-wald.

Mother Millay asks me to send you her love, which I do.

And under separate cover, by Express in a huge, huge, huge barrel, we
send you our love. Goodbye sweet ones. Be good children.

Form 1204

76

WESTERN UNION
WESTERN UNION
TELEGRAM

<table><thead><tr><th>CLASS OF SERVICE</th><th>SYMBOL</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>TELEGRAM</td><td></td></tr><tr><td>DAY LETTER</td><td>BLUE</td></tr><tr><td>NIGHT MESSAGE</td><td>NITE</td></tr><tr><td>NIGHT LETTER</td><td>N L</td></tr></tbody></table>

If none of these three symbols appears after the check (number of words) this is a telegram. Otherwise its character is indicated by the symbol appearing after the check.

NEWCOMB CARLTON, PRESIDENT

J. C. WILLEVER, FIRST VICE-PRESIDENT

The filing time as shown in the date line on full-rate telegrams and day letters, and the time of receipt at destination as shown on all messages, is STANDARD TIME.

RECEIVED AT

155V B 103 NL 1/69

CHATHAM NY SEPT 11 1926

AUGUSTA DAVISON FICKE

922 CANYON ROAD SANTAFE NMEX

ABSOLUTELY IMPOSSIBLE TO MAKE ARRANGEMENTS TO COME THEREFORE WE ARE
COMING WITHOUT ANY ARRANGEMENTS STOP OH KING WE ACCEPT YOUR ROYAL
INVITATION WITH SERVILE BROWN IN THE DUST BUT ELATED LEGS IN THE
AIR STOP OH QUEEN LET YOUR ROYAL HORSE KICK OUR PLEBEIAN POSTERIOR
THAT WE MAY KNOW IF WE ARE REALLY AWAKE OH KING LIVE FOREVER OH
QUEEN MEET MRS HYLAN STOP CANNOT LEAVE BEFORE A FORTNIGHT

NIGHT LETTER

Miss Gladys Brown, care of Miss Hazel Mitchell
31 West 50 th Street, New York City

Never have I heard of so unforgivable an act as hers. You were
a little careless my dear but that is nothing and who could
have imagined such an act of perfidy in advance. stop.
The thought of her carefully paying for the contents of a box
entrusted to her for someone else would make even a Santa Fe
burro laugh.Why did she not either keep her mouth shut or else
understand the mood in which the pictures were made and speak
gaily of them. stop. What business of hers was the whole
thing anyway. stop. It makes me sad to think of the bitter
psychology that underlies her act. I do not care for public
censures. I cannot forgive myself now for having wasted friendship
on her. So far as I am concerned this ends all relations. stop.
As for you dismiss all idea of blame. Only one person is to
blame. I am so sorry that the children have been disturbed
by this unforseeable act of madness. I am also sorry that beauty
has been soiled by the sacreligious hands of an outsider.
I shall be much obliged if the lady will return the recently
sent copy of Christ in China. Please make a copy of this telegram
for the children and mail original to the lady. stop. I say
this after several hours of deliberation. Please do as I say.
All my love to you dear.

Arthur Davison Ficke

Let me rehearseM the story as it comes to me.-- A box was entrusted to you to deliver to your guests. The box was, as Gladys has carefully told me that you wished me to know, neither wrapped, tied nor sealed. I grasp that point perfectly; I also know that the box was not a burglar-proof safe; I am aware, however, from much experience with that kind of box, that it never comes open accidentally. I would have supposed the box to be quite sufficiently safe in the hands of any person whom I had ever called my friend.

However, your ideas of hospitality and loyalty apparently
differ from mine.

As I understand it, you actually opened that box
because you suspected that it contained indecent pictures
and you had to consider the servants. !!!!!!

Having opened the box, and found that your dearest
fears were right, you made a complete and carefull inspection;--
you had the audacity to do that, when right on top of the box
was a personal note from me to my friends.

Having made this inspection-- an outrage that has no
parallel in my experience-- you were so unfortunate as to
be unable to appreciate the beauty of some of the pictures and
the humor of some of the others. A kind of cold jealous
puritanical fury took possession of you, and made you, I really
believe, temporarily insane.

Being thus totally unable to enter into the mood of the
pictures and their takers, you did not have the sense to simply
deliver the pictures to their owners and say nothing; no, you
made it your business to express an impertinent opinion about
matters that in no way concerned you. This is to me one of the

high spots in your crime. I can assure you that had any one of
the four of us wanted to have your opinion of our ideas of
actions, we would have asked for it.

Good God! that a person like you should dare to even _think_
a criticism of one of the four of _us_! How terrible that your
prurience should thus bewmirch those lovely pictures which we
took during such golden days! _You_! who used to pretend to be
our friend, and a poet!

Why, if you feared for the servants(!!!!!!) did you not
simply lock the box up?

Why, when you had opened the box and saw the general
nature of its contents, did you have to look further?

Why were you so gross as to be horriBied by what you found?

Why did you consider it your business ever to mention
your sneaking act to anyone?

When you have answered those questions to yourself, you
will be able better to understand the feelings of unutterable
contempt with which I view you.

You are simply an outsider, and a sneak. I for one
shall take pains to leave you to sit alone and think unpleasant
thoughts and keep guard over the morals of your servants at the
expense of your friends.

Feb. 22, 1927

Darling Kids--

I am so unhappy about it all! You whom I love so much--
that my carelessness, my positively childlike forgetfulness of
the views of the world should have hurt you!

Gladys writes me that I sent something to Elinor. I
cannot remember doing it-- but if I did, it must have been a
very innocent picture. Can't you imagine my feeling suddenly--
"How that XXX other real poet would love this beautiful thing!" -k
and my then sending it to her, in a moment of naively folly?
Of course I must have sent something, if Elinor says I did. But
did you see it? Wasn't it a very harmless one? I suppose I
am entirely insane,-- or rather, was insane, until this lesson,-
and I cannot even now think of such beautiful things as being
anything but beautiful. But I have learned good and plenty
in the last three days, believe me!

Nothing was ever sent to Floyd, or to anybody else. Elinor
is the only person I could possibly have dreamed of sending such
a thing to-- because I knew she adores you, and is a poet,
and is fully worthy of being admitted to our Holy of Holies.
I suppose I also felt that if Elinor had some beautiful nudes
of herself she would gladly share them with you and Gladys and m
me. That makes a little difference, don't you think?

As for Florence-- Fish! bah! excuse me while I spit!
There has been no such vile act as hers since God was a pup.
We are well rid of that trash. All that surprises me now is
that she did not sell the films to the newspapers, or have
us all arrested. Ask Gladys to show you my letter to Florence.
I think it is a very fairly expressive hint that I don't like
her-- and I hope it hurts her like hell, and I think it will!

Isn't it tragic for her-- to have such a nature as to be
able to smash at one blow her friendship with the four nicest
people in the world!

Well, darlings, as you may have guessed from what I have
said, I have had my lesson! I am almost knocked out by it.
In future, I shall make no mistakes. As to the pictures I now
have, I will destroy every one of them if you prefer to have
that done. Whatever you say. But I hope you will agree with
me that careful and magnificent prints should be made, and kept
of at least a few of the loveliest ones. Then destroy everything
else. Someday the world may not be as horrid as it is now;
and some way of salting these pictures away for a future age
could be devised.

Gladys says you are writing to me: but I have not yet
received the letter. So don't think this is a reply: I don't
know what you are going to say. I deserve the worst!

I am too tired to talk about the "Henchman" but I have
read all kinds of letters, reviews, etc. which people have
sent me-- and I judge that all went well, except for the
obliteration of your beautiful phrasing. Elinor's article is
very cute!-- especially from a person who does not usually
find it easy to express her admiration of someone else. You
have had a pretty good "press", I gather.

Well, darlings, I love you in spite of my sins against you.

Dear Evelyn--

You will undoubtedly learn XXXXX sooner or later from
Florence that all relations between her and the Ficke-Brown and
Boissevain-Millay families have been ended for good. Therefore
I think I should tell you why, lest she give you some lying
version of the story.

While Vincent and Eugen were out here, I took a lot of
photographs of them without their clothes. Having made all the
prints that any of us wanted, I put the films in a box, and
Gladys took the box to New York. On top of the box was a note
telling the M-B s that I was through with the films, and that
I thought they had better destroy them.
(Kids means Son & Son-in-law)

Gladys took the box to Florences, where the Kids were
staying. The Kids were not is. Gladys handed the box to
Florence, telling her they were films for the Kids.

Two days later Florence returned the box to Gladys. She
had not given them to the Kids. She had, she said, suspected
that the box contained nude photographs; and so had opened
the box and carefully inspected the contents--- because she
was afraid the servants would see them! ! ! 'Then for two days
she had apparently gloated over the films, in a kind of cold
jealous sexual horror-- and then had gone with the box
to Gladys to express her opinion of the indecency of us all.

Naturally Gladys at once went to the Kids; the Kids
at once packed up and left Florences house, after a few
remarks to her on their idea of her as a hostess and a friend;
I have written her such a letter as I never wrote before and
hope never to have to write again; and there you are.

The explanations of Florences act are, chiefly, her
bitter jealousy of the intense friendship between the four of
us; her anger over the point-blank refusal I gave her last
Fall when she wired me to know if she could come out here with
the Kids; her morbid fear lest the Kids are going to try to
borrow from her a few of those thousands which she is hoarding
for that dreadful Margaret; and her jealousy of all the public
attention that Vincent is getting nowadays.

I am sorry to put all this horrid mess before you-- but
I think you will easily understand why I do not want some
wild story concocted by Florence's enraged and prurient mind
to be the only one you hear. You are the only person to whom
I shall ever tell the story.

I think you, who are not a mad person, will agree with
me that she should never have opened the box, but simply locked
it up; and that, after opening the box, it was almost insane of
her to express her likes or dislikes of the contents. The whole
matter did not concern her in the least degree. She has thus at
one fell swoop turned her four best friends into contemptuous
enemies.

When she tells you the story, she will undoubtedly
make a great point of her horror over the pictures. Some of
the pictures, I will say, are among the most beautiful things
I have ever seen-- things of a classic loveliness that is
almost beyond belief. Others are quite playfully "bad"; they
amused us to take, and were never meant for other eyes than our
own, and are most strictly none of Florences business. So I

trust you will not forget, when Florence tells you her tale,
that I fully admit the pictures to be just as"bad" as we knew
how to make them. As a matter of fact, we were consciously
imitating an erotic Chinese scroll which I have. This form of
amusing oneself may not be one that Florence herself would
choose-- but you will readily understand that no one of the
four of us was asking her opinion on the matter.

That is all of _that_ unpleasant story.

Oh-- one more little detail.-- What moment do you
suppose Florence chose for her outburst, after waiting two
days? Three hours before the rising of the curtain on
Vincent's opening night! And Vincent was to have sat in
Florence's box! Honestly, can you beat it. When the row
had broken open, and Vincent was leaving, -- "But then where
are you going to sit?" says Florence. "You know there is not
a seat left in the house." "I would rather stand that sit
beside you" says Vincent.

Perhaps you wonder why I tell you all this? It is because
I feel morally certain that Florence will tell you some
extraordinay version of it, which, in the absence of other
information, might make you think that all four of us were
insane criminals, and not fit company for Stan. I can assure
you that none of us are insane or criminal,-- we only have an
utterly different feeling about life than Florences.

You are ab perfect liberty to show this letter to
Florence, if you ever wish to. I do not know how to state
the truth more accurately than I have done here. Naturally you
wont speak of the matter to anyone else.

Thank you for the letters from Stan. No, he doesn't say very
much, does he! I guess boys never do at that age. A boy does
not really know himself what elements of his life are of
importance to him and to others. Many people out here still
speak to me of what a nice impression he made on them when he
was here. Alice Corbin Henderson, a very nice middle-aged
woman, was saying to me only the other day that he seemed to
hendly himself better in every respect than the other boys of
his age here. I wonder whether _MIX_ you will want to let him
come out again next summer, or whether you have other plans?
There is lots of time yet to decide.

Yes, I am improving; but I fear that this outrage of
Florences has upset me enough to slow things up a little.

I hate opera as much as you do. But if I were you I would
read Vincent's book of the play, published by Harpers. It has
a magnificent end moving end.

Elizabeth Peet is a nice girl; I am glad she is rid of

Darling Bunnie--

I think my night letter last night said about all I
have to say that is important as to Florence. The woman is
obviously mad with jealousy of the four of us. She hates
our happy life,-- as artists, as friends, as lovers; she
is wild with fury that we would not let her come out here to
spoil our party; Vincent's prominence in public eye just now
makes her jealous; she is in mortal terror lest the Kids
borrow from her a few of those millions which she is hoarding
for sweet Margaret; she knows that none of us really care for
her;----- altogether, she has just gone insane.
Tell the Kids that they have forgotten that while

her;----- altogether, she has just gone insane.
Tell the Kids that they have forgotten that while
they were here, and I was writing to Florence, I showed them
a couple of very harmless pictures which I suggested sending
to Florence-- and they agreed that it was all right. Perhaps
they will remember if I recall to them the fact that we made
a little joke at the time, about hoping that in case of Florences
death George would not get hold of the pictures! But the
pictures were quite harmless ones, anyway.
Please show this letter to the Kids. I am so sorry

pictures were quite harmless ones, anyway.
We are all of us well rid of her.
I will do anything

We are all of us well rid of her.
As to the pictures.-- I will of course do anything
the Kids wish: I will destroy every trace of every one of the
pictures if they say so. But that seems to me a great pity--
and I suggest that we wait a little while, and let our emotions
cool a little before we do anything so irrevocable. My own
judgment would be that the really "bad" ones had better be
destroyed completely, but that the handsomest ones of Vincent
alone or Vincent with you can perfectly well be kept. Do not
let us lose our own sane and sweet point of view just because
of the tantrums of a semi-mad woman.
I will destroy every trace of every one of the

alone or Vincent with you can perfectly well be kept. Do not
let us lose our own sane and sweet point of view just because
of the tantrums of a semi-mad woman.
Florence is disgusting. Dont let us let her
get on our minds. Dont talk about her all the time. Wash your
minds of her, all of you. Perhaps I am foolish to write her
the following letter-- but I feel I have to!

Gosh, what an episode!

Lots of love, darling

Form 1204

WESTERN
UNION

NEWCOMB CARLTON, PRESIDENT

<table><thead><tr><th colspan="2">SYMBOLS</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>BLUE</td><td>Day Letter</td></tr><tr><td>NITE</td><td>Night Message</td></tr><tr><td>NL</td><td>Night Letter</td></tr><tr><td>LCO</td><td>Deferred</td></tr><tr><td>CLT</td><td>Cable Letter</td></tr><tr><td>WLT</td><td>Week End Letter</td></tr></tbody></table>

Received at 52 Lincoln Avenue (On the Plaza), Santa Fe, N. Mex.

Telephones
No. 580 and 581

15V A 65 NL

NEWYORK NY FEB 28 1927

ARTHUR FICKE

722 CANYON ROAD SANTAFE NMEX

DAFLING ARTIE DONT CPY YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS STILL LOVE YOU STOP
YOU APE NOT PERFECT BUT YOU APE STILL THE NICEST BOY IN THE WORLD
STOP IT IS TWO OCLOCK WE APE FRANTICALLY PACKING AND LEAVING IN
A FEW HOURS FOR STEEPLETOP YOUR FRIEND MISS BROWN ACCOMPANIES US
STOP THIRD PERFORMANCE HENCHMAN MARCH ELEVENTH ALREADY SOLD OUT
PLEASE BE GOOD BOY BECAUSE WE LOVE YOU.

UGIN AND VINCE

742A MAR 1 1927

EUGEN BOISSEVAIN

AUSTERLITZ, N. Y.

P. O. STATE LINE, MASS.

May 19, 1927.

Dear Arthur and Gladys:

At last I received the Deed for your
property. I am now taking this up with a
surveyor and hope to start work in the
surveying of your property before long. In
order to save expense, I first want to get
one or two owners of adjoining property to
go with me over the line. This will make it
easier for the surveyor. This man charges
$30 a day and if I get some work done before
hand this might save considerable money.
As soon as I have gone over the land, with
this man, I will let you know. I will take
photographs and will send you the copies.

We are at present head over heels in
work. Some men are painting the house;
some others are building an extension to the
kitchen; others are refixing the house across
the road; while still more men are busy tilling
the land and building fences. Vincent and
I are working in the flower garden. We have
planted about 40 roses and they are all dif-
ferent kinds, any amount of bushes, peranuals,
sowing anuals and going to the woods digging
up trees, which we transplant near our house.
The rush of this work will be over in a couple
of weeks. Then we intend to mix ourselves a
cocktail and write you a long letter.

I wish that when you see your land, Arthur,
for the first time, it might be in this season.
Every time Vincent and I pass your land we stop
the car to look at the view. It is simply
beautiful.

Form 1202

WESTERN
UNION

CLASS OF SERVICE

This is a full-rate
Telegram or Cable-
gram unless its char-
acter is indicated by
a symbol in the check
or in the address.

NEWCOMB CARLTON, PRESIDENT

<table><thead><tr><th></th><th>SYMBOLS</th></tr></thead><tbody><tr><td>BLUE</td><td>Day Letter</td></tr><tr><td>NITE</td><td>Night Message</td></tr><tr><td>NL</td><td>Night Letter</td></tr><tr><td>LCO</td><td>Deferred</td></tr><tr><td>CLT</td><td>Cable Letter</td></tr><tr><td>WLT</td><td>Week End Letter</td></tr></tbody></table>

The filing time as shown in the date line on full-rate telegrams and day letters, and the time of receipt at destination as shown on all messages, is STANDARD TIME.
Received at 52 Lincoln Avenue (On the Plaza), Santa Fe, N. Mex.
Telephones
No. 580 and 581
145V D 35

CHATHAM NY 505P SEP 1 1927

ARTHUR D FICKE

922 CANTON ROAD SANTAFE NMEX

DEAREST ARTHUR CONTEMPORARY VERSE IS COMPILING ANTHOLOGY OF
SACCO VANZETTI POEMS I AM GIVING MINE WHY DONT YOU LET THEM
HAVE THAT LOVELY ONE YOU SENT ME ADDRESS LUCIA TRENT
BOX FORTY SIX NEWHAVEN CONN

VINCENT

412P

Phone No. 342R

Phoned To Mr A. D. Ficke

Time Delivered 4:17

By 9 To Bemled

EUGEN BOISSEVAIN
STEEPLETOP
AUSTERLITZ, NEW YORK

Dear Childrens:

We are sitting before our open fire, thinking of you. This is the ninehundred and sixty third rainy day we have had this summer. If all summersb were like this, Artie most certainly does not want to build in Austerlitz. The first summer we were here was also like this; last summer was beautiful, but even last summer we had three weeks of rain. It cannot be denied that there is a rainy season here. If we were all living here we could all go away for a month in the summer, and two months in the winter. If we should all go away for the months August and Frebuary and March, then this place would be magnif. We speak in these above words, as Arthur has explained to us, how he feels about rain. And we know how he suffered at Saranac on account of rain. Off course this bad weather has been all over the east. New York City and France Roumania and Poland have been just the same. Everybody has been complaining about the weather, as you probably know, What kind of weather have you been having in Santa Fe? Was it really beautiful? We absolutely forbid you to build before you have lived here several months. Our cottage is being fixed and will be in readi-ness for you as early in the spring as you can come. That is to say we will have to put a bathroom in it next spring, but that will not take long. Until it is ready you can have here two rooms and a bathroom in a wing all to yourselves. About your coming here [insert your name] and spending the summer with us there is ABSOLUTELY no backing out of it. We love you better than anybody and miss you terribly, and wont take any back-talk. At the

2.
first word of insurrection, we shall come right out there and strangle
you with ten turquoise necklaces, six around Artie's neck, and four
around Gladdie's sneck. So that's that.

Now about the plans for your house. We are crazy about the design
and when we think how that house would look and how the hills and
valleys would suit it, we know we are going to have a great deal of
trouble preventing you to build it, even if the carpenters would
have to wear sou'westers at their work all summer. But we are adamant.

After many months of negotiations I have finally found out, that
Mr. Brown does not own the land he is willing to sell me. The owner lives in Cleveland Ohio. I have his address, which I will send you.
You can do your own negotiations by letter with him, if you like. Or
else I can start it, and keep you informed. Vincent will have to
go in November to Cleveland for a reading, and I could then call on
him and bring him to terms. But why don't you wait until you come
here, We might get an option from him and then sit pretty until
you come here.

Last week-end Arthur Hays spent the week-end with us, and we all
motored over to see Billie Bullitt and Louise Bryant. They have a
beautiful place about 60 miles from here. They have just the kind of
living room, which you want. About 50 feet by 20. It was an old barn
and they kept the rafters. We spent the night there, and the next day
they motored back with us to see our place. Do you know them? They
are darlings. Billie is so nice, he can nearly be compared with
Artie (I say this, because I was so jealous of Stokowski)

We wondered whether you heard the Henchman over the radiol ast
about
night. We heard it only Saturday, we immediately wired you, and
took steps to get a radio in Steepletop. The radio is the cat's dish,
we heard about 6 notes of the opera. The rest of the time there was
a static batt;e going on in our drawing-room. With all the reserves

3. called out on both sides. Heavy artillery is the only way you can dis-cribe it. Radio is the cat's dish; it is the barn-cat's dish.

Amongst the papers I sent you along with the deed of your property you will find a receipt of the lawyer for $25.- or $50.- You may reimburse me at your convenience but greatly to mine.

Will you also take this bill for repairs on the type-writer down to your Spanish-Indian friend of yours and shake it under his noes. We are not worrying about the pots that were broken, because they were not our favorites, nor that he sent it by express instead of by freight as we directed him. But we certainly are sore about this.

Do you remember that you sent us about a dozen envelopes with flower-seed about a year ago? We did not get around to planting them until about month ago Edna planted them in nursery-beds. They came up thicker than weeds. And now the nursery is all a row of seedlings the cutest thing you ever saw. There will be millions of Hollyhocks and goodness knows what, enough to dress up Hardhack and Steepletop for many a year to come. We are thinning them out: it's a cruel work.

We loved Arthur's Sacco-Vanzetti poem and we loved you for having written it. Edna has written two more things. As soon as I have time I will make a copy of them and send you.

I have taken your order for Apple-jack seriously and I will buy for you an oaken keg of 5 gallons. That will cost $50.- or $60.- I will put it away in my cellar and by the time you are ready for it, it will be better than any cognac you have ever drunk, excepting may be some very special Napoleon Brandy or something like that. I am buying for myself three kegs, because I want to get at least one keg one year old in my cellar. May be I'll buy four kegs and try to keep one keg for a number of years. If you want me to get more than one keg for you, then let me know as soon as possible. Let's buy

4.

a lot. Let's each buy five kegs. It may be a little more expensive
as apples are not very plentiful, but it certainly is not going to be
more than possibly $65.- for a five gallon keg. Very likely much c
cheaper, especially if I buy it in a large quantity. And then we
can use later on these little kegs. They cost about five dollars.
We will distill later on our own apple-jack from our own cider. I
would do it this year, but it is no fun doing it alone. I am making
beer, which I am going to store in my cellar until next year, when
it will be nicely matured.

My horse is beautiful. I wish Gladdie and Loraine were here to
ride with me. He is beautiful, but cannot jump.

Edna sends her love and so do I. Are you faithful to us?

Kisses.

Just received your darling wire this minute. You are darlings. I hope
you were able to get something of it. We were praying Sunday night
that there would not be any Static in Santa Fe. Did you hear anything

98

Dear Children:

Business: Thanks for checks, and booked according to instructions. Apple-jack not yet bought. Want to buy it direct from Cider-mill, which only started operating a week ago. While I am writing, as a matter of fact, I hear my big wagon with my two big black horses and jolly red plumes fastened to their bridles lumbering past my house. The wagon is graining under a load of beautiful apples, healthy fruit. And soon they are coming home again from College, having gone through the mill, mellowed, sparkling, fit company for a Christian gentleman; how different from the green and foolish youth in which they went away.

There won't be enough for you and me, so I am buying more apples and barrels and getting a sufficient quantity. Some of it I am going to make in the old fashioned way: to wit, get the sweet cider in 50 gallon barrels from the mill, let it get hard in my cellar, and then when the zero weather comes put the barrels outside, let the cider frezze up, and then in the center of the barrel, it's very heart, or rather it's soul, will be found the essence of all the good of the apple, namely all its fragrance all its endearing alcoholic charms, known as apple-jack. This I believe will prove a better way than the new way of distilling the hard cider, in the process of which, I feel convinced, much of the "bouquet" must get lost. We'll try both ways, what say you, my Lord Arthur? How I long for you and wish to continue my education of you, and make a little man out of you.

Poetry: I am crazy about the poems you have been sending us lately. I love the things you write, you great thing. Lindberg poem was terribly good and your lark is lovely. Edna says that the Lark is one of the loveliest lyrics you have written.

Other items of News: Edna is going on a reading trip of three weeks: Worcester, Hartford, Cincinnati, Chicago, Detroit, St. Paul, Cleveland, Washington. When we come back we are going to go away for some time, but have not quite made up our mind what to do. Vince is very much better, and we think that if she can get a good old rest for a month or so, she will be quite well. We have practically made up our mind to leave the 14th December on the Tode Fagelund, a Norwegian motor boat, from New York and go Rio de Janeiro, Santos, Montevideo and Vuenos-Aires and back. The trip there and back will take three months. It is a cargo boat and through my brother being a friend of owners, we will get owner's cabin, which is bedroom, private bath, sitting room and dining room. It will be like a private Yacht. We come back on same steamer. We will have about a month in the different ports. We will definitely decide in a week. If we don't do that we might take a steamer through the Canal to San Francisco, and then stay a while there and come back by steamer, or may be go to Honolulu and stay there for a month. As you see we are quite serious about going away for a big journey. On the sixteenth we must again go to Boston, as Edna must be tried again for loitering in front of the State House. That will be the second time they make her come and waste time and money. The judge said he had no consideration for the defendant at all, and didn't care how much time or money was wasted. So may be they will send her away again and we will not be able to leave on the 14th December.

Dear Arthur

I had left this letter to be finished at a later date, and now we hear about your operation. Od all the dirty, disgusting tricks of fate, as if you hadn't already enough to keep you busy recovering from one illness, this is the vilest. You poor little minnows !

And did Lord and Lady Leviathan go back on their promise and start nibbling at you. Rotten luck about the beautiful nurse. It must be new experience for you to send them out of your bed a virgin ! Poor Artie, poor Nurse. Vincie said she knows how you suffer, as she was in love with one of the doctors, who attended her at her last operation. And you know what HER X - HER last operation was ! Please be good and get well.

We also have been having good weather here. Beautiful weather.

No, Gladdie you cannot teach my horse to jump. If any teaching is to be done I will be the Maestro, you conceited puppy. My horse, although a great, great beauty, and a wonderful saddle horse is 13 ye years old, and never has ju ped. He has never been out of the civilized country roads of Long Island, and is beginning to get accusomed to under brush, and soft muddy places and little streams. I do hope I will be able to make him clear jumps of stone or fallen down fences to the height of two feet possibly three.

Artie's photo was a peach, really terribly good.

Please tell Hal that we are ashed we never wrote him to thank him for the snap-shots he sent us. We thought them extremely good. Please thank him and ask not to be too harsh in his judgement of us. Our photo's were not good enough to send him,

Goodbye chilrens. And Gladdie we loved your letter about the cliff-dwellers. You are a darling to write us. We kiss you both.

P.S. We are also talking of going to China, but then the time of year is a bad one. We'll let you know where we go. We might even end up in funny old Europe.

Dear Little Gladdie and dear little Artie, this is to say
that we got your wire. You may now expect any day to receive
a wire from us saying that we on our way by steamer or by
car or possibly even by train. I dont think we'll be able
to come by steamer. It is too damned expensive. So very
likely we'll come by car. Our car being open, we will
turn
make a swallow-line for the south and then dKIEKXE to the
right until we hit Santa Fe.

I dreamed about the two Mexican bottle to-night.
One bottle was a little Malay-boy of about ten, with a nice
little round rice belly, just the shape of the bottle, and
the other was a pretty little White girl of fifteen with
a sweet, round, tight little belly just like the other
bottle belly. They were very naked and the boy was very naughty.
They asked me which I liked, and I said; I like them Both.
They said: Both, that will never do, the boy and the girl?
And I said: I like both; I'm like God: I'm bisexual.

Edna will have about 12, or may be one or two more,
poems to show you.

And I want to talk to you about a marvelous plan I
have to arrange our lives, which will involve your selling
Hardcheck. I'll tell you all about it.

And are you a good boy Artie. You ust be better
than the docter tells you to be. For you must be not only
well enough to do what you want in New Mexico, but also in
New York State, France, China and the British Isles.

Kisses from
Ugj.

XU

THE SENDER
OF THIS
MESSAGE

authorizes us
to say that a
TELEGRAPHIC reply
is desired

via,

WESTERN UNION

3938

Form 1220-S

WESTERN
UNION

NEWCOMB CARLTON, PRESIDENT

The filing time as shown in the date line on full-rate telegrams and day letters, and the time of receipt at destination as shown on all messages, is STANDARD TIME.
Received at 722 Market St., San Francisco

ALWAYS
OPEN

1928 FEB 6 PM 4 24

NA323 78 NL XU=STATELINE MASS 6

A B FICKE=

HOTEL CECIL SANFRANCISCO CALIF=

DEAR ARTHUR WE HAVE ALREADY WRITTEN YOU TO SANTAFE AND MUCH
TO OUR SORROW SINCE MEXICO IS CLOSED AND YOUR DOCTOR WILL
NOT PERMIT YOU TO COME BACK WITH US WE HAVE DECIDED NOT TO
COME WEST THIS WINTER CAN IT BE YOUR WIRE FROM SANFRANCISCO
WAS INTENDED TO BE AS UNFRIENDLY AS IT SOUNDS COMING AS IT
DOES AFTER YOUR STRANGE JEERING LETTER WE DO NOT KNOW WHAT
TO THINK AND ARE GREATLY DISTRESSED PLEASE WIRE US=
EUGENE BOSSEVAIN.

116

OCTOBER 13, 1928

RECENT BOOKS

Somewhat Below Par

Congratulations to
Constant Reader

ON HER
147TH
BIRTHDAY

and we'll try to give her a novel she'll like better than the last one we sent her—

THE STRANGE CASE OF
MISS ANNIE SPRAGG

Poor, old *Constant Reader* just couldn't get through that one.

We were somewhat stunned by her out-
burst in the *New Yorker* of September 29,
but after we had dashed some cold water
on our faces, we realized that

LOUIS BROMFIELD'S

latest novel is certainly not a book for the
MENTALLY OLD AND DECREPIT. And after all,
*Constant Reader* was a hundred and forty-
six when she read it. She said so herself.

P.S. She also said "it will be hugely bought and widely discussed"... and right she is— it's a best seller! $2.50 at your bookshop.

STOKES, PUBLISHER

ARNOLD BENNETT has said that any one page of a novel taken at random should inform a re-
viewer adequately
as to the style and
substance of the
entire book. I have
read one hundred
and forty consec-
utive pages of
Aldous Huxley's
"Point Counter
Point" and can
grant it very little.
What I read was
such tough sledding
that I had to keep

reminding myself that it was a Literary
Guild selection and that the author was a
grandnephew of Matthew Arnold, but
even that didn't help much. The char-
acters are all tremendously modern and
supposedly smart, but if anybody actu-
ally talked at a night club or an eve-
ning party in London as they do here!
For novelty, there is a footman who
winks. There is also the remark that
women who believe the world well
lost for love are *apt* (the italics are
mine) to be terrible nuisances, and there
is the inquiry as to who can be superior
with freckles. There is the statement
that you must have at least five assured
pounds a week before you can begin
to like Barrie. Last, and by no means
least, in one superb paragraph Shelley
gets what I have always felt was coming
to him.

I FELL upon Josephine Herbst's "Nothing Is Sacred" because Ring Lardner, Ford Madox Ford, and Ernest Hemingway had said on the jacket that it was a swell book. Mr. Ford even said that it was the kind of novel he wished to see make its mark. When I came to the sentence, "Hilda read quietly in her book without knowing what she was reading," my sympathy with her was so quick that I had an uneasy suspicion that perhaps the jacket had become detached from one of the other innumerable novels which crowd our desks these days and had been replaced by some careless tidier-up on the wrong publication. The style was so unliterary and the psychology, dialogue, and difficulties of the Winter family were so homely that passages read aloud to casual visitors caused incredulous hilarity.

But the very outlandishness of the

business held my interest, and after
having finished the story in solitude, I
am convinced that Miss Herbst, writing

in the curious ver-
nacular which cer-
tain individuals use
for their reactions
and thoughts, has
achieved something
valuable in realism,
if not in belles-
lettres. She has
given us another
cross-section of
American family
life, and if the fam-
ily does consist of

rather grubby persons who belong to
lodges and read in their dining-rooms,
she has at least managed to convey the
poignance of their feelings and the mo-
tives for their conduct. In other words,
"Nothing Is Sacred" has great human
interest derived almost entirely from its
peculiar narrative method, and I do not
hesitate to recommend it to you.

EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY's new book, "The Buck in the Snow," is a disappointment, a fact which is almost more than I can bear. I have strung along with Thomas Hardy in the conviction that the things of greatest interest and account in America were our recessional buildings and Edna Millay's verse, and for her to come out, after a prolonged silence, with something that does not come up to the standard which she has set for herself reminds me of the days when McGraw was obliged to take Christy Mathewson out in the seventh inning. There is evidence of a real poet's fine imagination. But the first poem, "Moriturus," is the only one which echoes what she has done before.

NOW for some good news. It is
Philip Guedalla's "Bonnet and
Shawl," a brilliant collection of fem-
inine portraits against a nineteenth-cen-
tury background, the subjects being
several wives of great men who have
helped them to leave footprints on the
sands of time. In the group which
the author calls real are Jane Welsh
Carlyle, Catherine Gladstone, Mary
Arnold, Mary Anne Disraeli, Emily
Tennyson, and Emily Palmerston.
Lady Muriel James, Sophia Swin-
burne, and Julie de Goncourt are
classified as ideal.
—B. L.

THE CALUMET

118
East 40

Near Park Ave.

1 Room, Bath
$1000 to 1300

2 Rooms, Bath
$1600 to 2000

3 Rooms, 2 Baths
$2500 to 3200

Serving Pantries with
Electrical Refrigeration

New fireproof apartment
Complete home units

Restaurant
Hotel Service Available

Immediate Occupancy

Representative on Premises
Lexington 1393

cars have gone from the insistent public

All sales records have been the press of nally planned cou

Now an enlarged, sible to announce you have not had Coupes, Cabriolet

And a Special Di

IMPORTA

Twin-Ignition motor

12 Aircraft Type spark

High compression