Dear Sir, - As an interested reader of your excellent journal, I have been tempted to write to you regarding myself, and possibly I may be able to offer a suggestion or two of interest to you and your readers. That being so, here goes.
As to myself - like the average normal person, up to a little over three years ago, I was walking about on two good, sound, healthy legs, without the slightest suspicion or fear that one day something of a cruelly tragic nature might deprive me of the use of them; but, whereas, then, I had two, now I have none. But, even so, physically depleted as I am, I am not broken in spirit, or without hope for the future, although, at one time, I must say that I really felt myself faced with just such a possibility. But, thanks to a naturally sunny disposition, and something in the way of an inspiration, of which I will speak later, I have mastered all that, and in some measure, at least, satisfied a vanity of former years. And so, as the old song says "Are We Downhearted? - No!"
Although I have seen several letters in your delightful journal from monopeds, I have never seen one from ladies deprived of both legs altogether, although there must be a considerable number scattered abroad over the country, and in other countries reached by your journal. It seemed to me therefore, that mine might be of particular interest to ladies, who, like myself, are permanently dismounted from their erstwhile nether limbs.
Perhaps you will forgive me for a moment, if I say something in regard to the ordeal through which I have passed, and in this I must say that, when my legs were taken off, they were amputated very close up, and of equal length, and the flaps seem to be going on extremely well for a time. But, after a while, something began to go wrong with the left stump; several attempts where made to eliminate the trouble - which was gangrene, I believe but without any lasting success; so, eventually, they removed the remainder of my left leg, at the hip joint. After that, there was no more trouble. The short little stump of my right leg went on splendidly, and the surgeon said they had never known one to heal up better or make a neater finish to the job than mine had done. All the credit due to them I willingly and readily give, but, for all that, I heavily wish it had not been my leg that had been removed, to make such honours due. However, that by the way. The other flaps, where the left leg had been, although they told me they were getting along splendidly, and had made excellent progress, was a very different matter. It was touch and go, from the first. But, it is alright now. So, I won't weary you with further details concerning that part of the business of the hewing down of one poor, hapless human from the foundations upon which she had formerly stood. Now, what I want to say is, that, although I have a fairly long body my legs, which where sturdy and strong were rather short, and my height was, then, only five feet two. And the vanity wish that I had entertained, at which I have already hinted at - was that I wished that I had been tall, instead of short, as I was. Oh, the vanity of human wishes. So while I was in hospital, lying on my back, with nothing else to do than think, particularly, before the stump of my left leg began to go wrong, I spent a lot of time ruminating about the possibilities of wearing artificial legs made of such proportions as to give me some additional inches in height - and it haunted me to such an extent that it almost amounted to an obsession although I never uttered a word to anyone about the thoughts that were continually occupying my mind. But, every time I dwelt upon the subject, I was confronted by the fact that my stumps would be too short for the purpose I had in mind. And then, when the stump of my left leg began to go wrong, the thought of it almost got me down, and broke my spirit. However, I conquered at last the depression that was the inevitable result of dwelling too long upon the matter in the way I had been doing.
Then, my thinking took on another turn, and I thanked all the Gods that be, that it was only one stump that had taken a wrong course, instead of both of them. So, I began thinking deeply again about the possibilities of having an artificial leg, built upon the lines I have already hinted at. And it comforted and thrilled me, in spite of the handicap of having so short a stump, and the remoteness of ever being able to use it as I had hoped to do. But, when I read the letters of the monopede ladies in your journal, I determined that, one day I too would write to you and tell you and the readers of London Life something of myself and my affairs concerning my experiences in this matter. But, I determined to wait until I had satisfied myself regarding the mater I had in mind. before I ventured to do so. And so, now, after having given the matter a little over a month's trial, I am able to say, that, with the specially constructed limb I now have I am able to speak with authority and experience - although I must say that the vendor of the limb was not too optimistic as to its possibilities - except upon the level, and under given conditions. Upon no account was I to rise from a sitting position without assistance, nor to be on it for too long at a time. That latter precaution I have rigidly observed. But I must confess that I have transgressed three times in regard to the former, and nothing very startling has happened - except, that the strain of rising, not only tries the strength and quality of the limb, but it tries me too. And it is a thing I am not anxious to be doing too often; but, it was accomplished, for the simple reason that there was nobody there to help me. And I had no intention to calling upon a stranger to help me. Further, I have convinced myself that it can be done. And that means quite a lot to me. And to be able to go about, even upon an artificial leg and that, the only one you have (after over three years without any at all, or means of locomotion) - is thrilling beyond a measure, and some compensation for a misfortune that cannot be undone. And groaning about doesn't make things one whit the better - but infinitely worse.
But, I have not told you yet, that the limb that I have constructed gives an additional nine inches to my original height, and, instead of being sturdily built, as the limbs that I have lost were, it is as slim, graceful, beautiful, and majestic as any of those one reads about, as being insured for fabulous sums, and I am awfully proud it. And, as for the lure of the monoped, female, at any rate, I can heartily confirm what has already been said by other writers upon the subject, even when, as in my case, the lonely leg happens to be an artificial one. And, it is a beautiful and alluring one, if ever there was one, I can assure you. But, in spite of all that, I would, a million times rather have my real ones back again. And if wishing could do it, I would, even though this one has satisfied a vain, life time longing, as aforesaid.
I have not told you yet, that the foot of my queenly leg wears a size three shoe, or boot, as the case may be, whereas my own wore sixes or five and a halfs, to be more exact - when half sizes were to be got. I was sitting in the park the other day, when a gentleman came and sat down beside me, and began to chat as if he had known me a lifetime. During the conversation, he remarked upon my classic ankle and dainty foot and upon the elegance of my boot I was wearing - which was as high in the leg as I could wear and laced with silken laces and had a three inch Louis heel - said what a pity it was that an unkind fate had robbed me of its mate. And he said that monoped ladies had an uncommon attraction for him, and he was going to put his hand on my knee, which he would have found was not at all soft and fleshy, as a real leg should be, but I put my own hand there instead, and he then remarked about my dainty little hands, which unlike my legs, that are no longer mine, are small and rather long, with what are known as piano fingers. He asked me then whether he could walk along with me. But, I declined his offer, and told him that I had an appointment to keep at any moment now, remarking that my friend was rather late. Whereupon after a little desultory talk, he got up, saying that he was sorry that I had that engagement, and hoped that he would have the pleasure of meeting me again soon, when he hoped I should not be otherwise engaged. He raised his hat and made his bow, and took his departure. And a very nice man he seemed to be, so far as I could see.
A little while after that, I made a successful rising, not at all gracefully or dignified, I freely confess, by the aid of the arm and back of the seat, and, hopping along on my crutches, I felt like the queen on earth. Only those who have passed through similar ordeals and experiences can properly understand what this meant to me. It was a glorious afternoon, and I had satisfied myself, that, first, that no one knew but that my leg was real, and that there was a good deal to live for yet. Handicapped, or not so handicapped . - I would like to suggest that all the letters from monopeds or limbless ladies that have appeared in the columns of London Life be published in book form, as a permanent record of the pleasure that has been brought into the lives of these people through the medium of your topping little journal. I am sure that it would be almost equal to a best seller. And it would be a record of the truth. And that is the beauty of it.
I must apologise for the length of this, my first letter and remain,
Yours still hopping,
Monoped Extraordinary.
P.S. - Also the articles, stories and photographs relating to the subject.
Dear Sir, - Since writing the enclosed letter, I have penned the following lines, which I think, possibly, you may like to use. Here they are:
Oh, I could sing, despite of Life's conditions.
With all its cares, there's much to live for yet;
So, to Life's Source, I raise my soul's petitions,
And 'gainst hard fate refuse to groan or fret.
What once were mine, but which I have no longer,
I have resigned, since they weren't mine to keep.
Though much I've lost, I've grown in spirit stronger,
And now refuse to murmur or to weep.
What might have been, were I the chosen vessel,
Now, in my heart, no harbour room can find;
And thoughts, with which, one time I used to wrestle,
Now, come no more, to wreck my peace of mind.
This life is sweet, and all the cares that vex us
May be the means to further some great end
And all the ills, that worry and perplex us
As milestones toward the place which we wend.
What seems most hard, when we are called to face it,
Brings compensations with the passing years,
And every setback, when to source we trace it,
Brings Wisdom, smiling through the mists of tears.