Dear Sir, - I came across some very old copies of your own paper a few days ago. Amongst them was the copy in which you published a story called "The Confessions of a One-legged Bride."
I wonder if any of your readers will be interested in these experiences of mine?
About two years ago I was travelling North in an express from King's Cross, and just as the train left, a girl entered my compartment, which was empty except for we two. She was well dressed, very pretty, above average height, and about 25 years old.
I had been looking out of the window and had not seen her enter, and paid no attention to her until the train steamed out.
Here let me say that I have been greatly attracted, but quite unknown, to lame girls - which I put down to the fact that my mother lost her right limb some months before I was born.
On turning round, I took stock, as it were, of my fellow-traveller, and noted the particulars I have quoted, plus a very neatly turned ankle and calf enclosed in a light stocking and a lovely black patent shoe with a heel rather above the average height.
It was some seconds before I realised it was only one limb and I'm afraid I gurgled like a stranded fish, and blurted out, "You have lost a leg!"
The girl laughed and asked if I had found it. After apologising to her, we entered into a conversation, during which I confessed my attraction to lame girls, and learned how she became one-legged.
At the age of 14 she fell and injured her kneecap, and after many months and several operations her limb was removed just above the knee.
She normally wore an artificial limb, but on this occasion was using a light black crutch, shod with a very light rubber foot.
Our journey lasted for over five hours, and started a friendship which culminated in our marriage.
At a junction where we changed, she rose, took down her crutch from the luggage rack, seized a handbag, and was on the platform before I could assist her. We went to the tearoom.
I was quite fascinated by the easy gliding sway in which she walked.
Even now it is quite incredible to me that of all the places we could have gone to, we should both have been bound for the same town.
After a very little time I asked her to marry me, and had quite a task to overcome her objections. Within six months we were married, and have been preposterously happy ever since.
My wife, as I have said, usually wears an artificial limb, which is made entirely of metal and is so light and natural that it is absolutely impossible to tell that she has only one limb.
She is fond of pretty shoes, and wears with ease a pair with heels just under 3 inches in height whilst wearing her artificial limb, and also wears a pair of well fitting corsets, but is not in an easy sense wasp-waisted; but she knows that I love to see her on her crutch, and many evenings each week she discards her artificial limb and uses the crutch. She never worries about moving from one room to another without it, as she is quite expert at hopping, and moves up and down stairs quite freely, and does so by hopping, keeping her crutch firmly under her arm, but supports herself on the banister, when coming down.
By dint of great practice she is able to dance the more common dances, and walks miles without undue fatigue.
She is not at all sensitive about her loss, except at the seaside during our annual holiday, when she sees other girls bathing, as she will not consent to swim and show the maimed leg in its entirety.
I should be delighted to see letters from other admirers of one-legged girls or, better still, from the ladies themselves, also some fresh stories by the same author.
Yours truly,
Roy The Second.