Dear Sir, - Since returning from the Argentine last Christmas I have become a regular reader of "London Life", and in view of the experiences of "Marcel", so excellently told by Wallace Stort, and the obvious enthusiasm with which they are received, I think it worthwhile to relate some Of my own experiences.
I was in business as an estate agent in a large town in Argentine, and one day a clerk brought in a card bearing the name of a lady who was unknown known to me. I immediately directed that she be shown in, and I think I may be excused if I betrayed my surprise as she entered my room. She was young and charming, and swung gracefully into my room supported by a single crutch, the reason far which was that her right leg was missing.
I mastered my surprise and arranged a chair for my visitor, placing it where I had a full view of its occupant. In the flimsy blue summer frock which she wore she was, to me, devastating.
Suffice it to say that I was able to suit her requirements, as indeed I would have moved heaven and earth to do. After a little delay the business we had was concluded, but this notwithstanding my acquaintance with the beautiful monopede continued and ripened into friendship.
At first I, naturally, made no reference to June's (that is what I will call her) loss of a leg. Late one night, however, when we were returning from a show, I summoned up courage to link up my arm in hers and tell her something of my feelings towards her. To my relief she just nestled her golden head contentedly on my shoulder.
I confessed that I loved her, not in spite of her loss, but partly, at any rate, because of it. She admitted that she had guessed this from the first. She told me that she had lost her leg when she was sixteen, and that at first she was much depressed at her loss.
Gradually she had settled down to her new condition and had observed that some men, at any rate, paid her considerable attention. She mentioned this to another one-legged girl with whom she had become friendly, and Amy (for that was her name) explained to the not altogether surprised June that there were men that actually preferred monopedes to normal girls. After that June made no effort to disguise the fact that she was one-legged, and entirely ceased to use the artificial leg which she had bought.
My friendship with June ripened into love, and before I close this letter I should like to mention the party to which June took me some three months after I first met her. The dinner took place at a large country house, the owner being a wealthy merchant who had himself lost a leg. I understood from June that he had married recently and had taken the house and the object of the dinner was to introduce his wife and her friends to his old friends, including June, who was his niece. He received us cordially, and then, stepping lightly along on his crutches, he took us in to introduce us to his wife. she proved to be little older than June herself, and was dressed in a fragile silvery material; but the amazing thing was that she, too, had only one leg. In her case it was the left leg that was missing, and I was interested to see that she used a neat peg-leg. I judged correctly, as it afterwards appeared, that she had lost her leg above the knee.
The first guest to whom we were introduced was none other than June's friend, Amy. She proved to be a smiling brunette, and the flimsy dress she wore showed to perfection her glorious figure. She used a pair of elbow crutches, and I observed as she sat down that her stump was slightly shorter than June's. With her was her fiance, a young and handsome man, below whose left hip was a stump neatly tucked up in his shortened trouser leg.
He stood up without the aid of a crutch, although I observed one near his side.
Among a number of normal guests there were two other one-legged girls. One was a girl who reminded me forcibly of Anita Page. She used a pair of crutches and she had no stump whatever, her left leg having been amputated at the hip. The other girl was dark and, I imagine, of Spanish origin. She used a single crutch and made more display of her one-leggedness than the other monopedes present.
She was obviously aware or the attraction her single leg had for many men, and she had numerous little tricks to remind one that she had a beautiful figure and only one leg.
I am afraid this letter is rather long, but if you care to publish it I will describe the party I went to in more detail and tell you more of the one-legged ladies and gentlemen I met there.
Yours truly,
Monopede Lover