Girl's Letter Is Joke on Bachelors, but It Overwhelms Her With Mail

1920

GREAT FALLS, Mont. — Miss Ethel Day, a pretty New York girl, has caused work for a few extra mail clerks and carriers in this city as the result of a little joke that she and two other girl friends played upon several thousand young bachelors scattered over the habitable globe a few months ago. Miss Day is now thoroly convinced of the potency of publicity, and so, incidentally, are the letter shooters and mail sorters in the Great Falls postoffice.

Last summer, while enjoying a vacation in the mountains with her two girl friends from New York, who helped her put over the joke, the trio decided to write the following epistle to a motion picture magazine:

"Editor: I am a girl 19 years old. With three other girls I herd cattle for a wealthy stockman. We get awfully lonely and would like to correspond with some Eastern men."

In one day's mail she received answering letters from Germany, France, Hawaii, the Philippines, Zanzibar, Africa; London, Texas. Maine, New Hampshire, Boston, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, St. Louis, Cleveland, Norfolk. Va.; Brunswick, Ont., Can.; New York, Montreal, Key West. Fla.; Jersey City, the U. S. steamship Savannah, India, and numerous other points about the world.

A young lad from New York who evidently has the impression that Montana is still in "the wild and woolly West" asked Miss Day to put a good word for him with her boss so that he could come West and learn to punch cattle. Others spoke of wolves howling around the door.

A little Virginia lass has asked the following questions: "Do you dance? What style of dancing do they have in the West? (Imagine answering that one!) How are the folks out there, hospitable, friendly, sociable? How are the girls, the fellows? What are the chief entertainments? How do you spend your time?"

Now Miss Day for a little while thought it just lovely to receive hundreds of nice letters, but it is rapidly ceasing to be a joke. Each day her list of unanswered letters increases and all she needs is a permit to start a postoffice all her own. The problem could be easily solved by either ignoring the letters or sending them back unclaimed were it not for the fact that all her correspondents were so anxious for a reply that they carefully enclosed stamped, addressed envelopes.

However, Miss Day cheerfully says she will see the thing thru and answer every letter if she has to hire a couple of stenographers and a dictaphone and take a vacation for three months.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Jan. 3, 1920, p. 5.