Dear Sir, - I have been to the South of France for several weeks, and took with me my sports car, and, needless to say, I had a wonderful time.
"S. H. H." in a letter desired to know how I manage to drive my car. Of course I drove before having my leg amputated. Now I have a hand throttle fitted instead of the usual foot throttle, and a clutch works in conjunction with the handbrake, and the foot brake I naturally control with the foot of my one and only leg. I do hope she will be able to manage to drive, and perhaps she will let us know.
I met several one-legged women in France. One night there was a wonderfully beautiful woman with a figure like a Venus, but with only one leg. For her missing leg she wore the slenderest peg-leg I have ever seen. She was dressed in a most vivid scarlet backless evening gown, knee-length, and her peg-leg was the same colour. You can imagine what she looked like, with a scarlet stocking and shoe, and vivid red hair. She seemed quite oblivious of her one-leggedness as she went stumping along with her escort, smoking and laughing. I was told that she was well known as "Jambe de bois Celeste" (Wooden legged Celeste). Peg-legs seem quite popular amongst one-legged women in France.
The majority of the Frenchmen whom I met were most charming, and I could not have had a more gorgeous time. I had plenty of sea bathing. No one appeared to take undue notice of my one-leggedness when in my bathing costume. Needless to say, I was very glad of this, because it gave me encouragement to bathe and sun myself quite oblivious to any missing leg.
I thought I was well initiated in the art of make up, but, believe me, the French have taught me a lot. I have my platinum hair cut in the latest Paris style with a flat fringe on forehead and ears. My eyebrows are plucked and replaced with a thin tattooed line, and I also use mascara. This with a tinge of rouge and a very brilliant vermilion lipstick, and my knee-length dresses fully complete what I am told by my male friends a very prepossessing and shapely one-legged figure. I am sure they must be right, for no matter where I go I always become a cynosure of all eyes as I hop on my single crutch. Needless to say, such attraction makes me inordinately proud.
I brought back from Paris six lovely slender crutches, black, blue, brown, and grey, for day use, and a red and green for evening wear. These crutches are extraordinarily slender and fitted with detachable armrests, which are made of a composition very flexible and pliable of the same colour and shaped to fit with wonderful comfort in the hollow of the armpit. They are hollow with three small springs inside which give in to the pressure of my shoulder when I am hopping along, and also being exceedingly yielding to my flesh when I am wearing a sleeveless dress. Needless to say, they were very expensive, but I must grin and bear that for the extra comfort and smartness.
I broke my journey on the way back and stayed in Paris for a week, and one evening, when I was dining alone at a table there came into the dining room a girl using a single crutch, having lost her left foot, it being amputated at the ankle. It was quite fascinating to watch her footless leg gently swaying with her movements as she hopped on her crutch.
As I caught her eye, I naturally smiled at her, and she hopped to my table and asked if she might share it. Of course I was delighted, but made up my mind not to say anything about my being one-legged, but to give her a surprise.
She told me her foot had been amputated twelve months earlier after an accident. When we had finished coffee, I signaled the waiter, and you can imagine the surprise on her face when he came over with my crutch. I stood up on my one and only leg, and he adjusted my crutch under my right arm, and as I hopped round to her side and slightly pulled up my evening dress, said, "what do you think of my one leg?"
I read with great interest the letter from "One-legged Novice" and hope that she will look on her one-leggedness in the right spirit. If she does as I am doing, having a good time, she will never worry about being one-legged.
I really enjoyed "One-legged Margaret's" letter. What a wedding - four people without legs! Please write again, Margaret, and say how your wedding went off.
What has happened to "Rex", and all the other one-legged brigade lately? I hope they will write as they used to.
Apologising for my rather lengthy letter, but I can still sign myself in all happiness,
Yours truly,
One Leg