Tuesday, June 11, 1968 Dear Mr. Marsworth, Hello from Reenie Kelly from Missouri, your brand-new summer paperboy. You can count on me to deliver your Tribune. I'm staying with my gram at the top of Gardner Hill. Temporarily. Any problems with your paper, you can find me at Blanche Kelly's. We'll be stuck at Gram's on Gardner until our family has a home. No one thinks a girl should have a route except for me, but Gram said that I could split the route with Dare. I'm eleven, twelve in August. Dare's thirteen. I'm not too young to have my own route, Mr. Marsworth. I helped Dare deliver papers back in Denton, and I helped my oldest brother, Billy, before Dare. It's high time I have at least six blocks of houses to myself. This week I've gone door-to-door to say hey to all my customers, and so far I've met all of them but you. I can't knock on your door because I can't unlock your gate, or climb that pointy iron fence around your yard. I've rung your rusted bell, but no one comes. I saw a shadow in your window so someone must be home. Gram says that you're a loner, but a loner can say hey. And I'm a loner too now, Mr. Marsworth. I'm a new girl in Lake Liberty without a single friend. Two loners could say hey through that tall fence. Mom always said some friendly never hurt. When we meet up face-to-face, you'll see for yourself a girl can do this job. (If customers don't want a girl, Gram says I have to give my half to Dare.) Give a man a handshake, that's how Dad taught Dare and Billy to do business, and since this is my first business, I want to do it right. Is there a time that you could meet me, Mr. Marsworth? Yours Truly, Reenie Kelly P.S. Could you tell me if you own a mean dog, Mr. Marsworth? That iron fence looks like it's meant for a mad dog. It's best if I'm prepared before I start my route next week. In Denton, the Palmers' vicious shepherd bit me twice. P.P.S. I know folks wish Glen Taylor wasn't moving to Mankato, but I promise I'll do twice the job Glen Taylor ever did. You won't be disappointed in my service, Mr. Marsworth. A week from Friday when his route is mine, I'll prove to you I'm right! P.P.P.S. Do you want your paper rolled or folded? AND how will I collect if I can't get past your gate? Excerpted from Until Tomorrow, Mr. Marsworth by Sheila O'Connor All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
