Transvestia

not apply here, I think. We shall of course provide you with room and board and additionally, recompense you for your efforts at the rate of fifteen thousand piastres a month--how much is that in dollars, Meyer?" the Lama asked his bookkeeper.

Many years later, a slightly harried looking man with the grey of early middle age at his temples returned to his house and wife in the suburbs to find his spouse all agog over a mysterious letter bound in a queer sort of brownish envelope. The very fat evelope was covered with exotic stamps legendary postmarks and several forwarding addresses.

"Who's it from?" demanded his wife.

"I haven't the faintest idea." he answered truthfully, "I can't seem to make out the postmark-- Boy! This thing has been all over the world.'

"Well open it for heaven's sake! I'm dying of curiosity!"

He opened the envelope, read it aloud and re- placed it in the envelope. He sat down on the couch staring at the ceiling with a bemused smile on his lips. His wife stood with open mouth,

"Why--it doesn't make any sense at all. Was that someone you know, dear?" she asked.

"Mmm.

A long time ago, when I worked for the travel agency--remember?--I helped a man make out a route for a trip. He always said he'd let me know

how he made out."

Wow!

"It sounded like some kind of a trip, alright! But--the end doesn't make sense, does it?"

"Why not?"

"Read it again for me.' "' she asked.

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