“Oct. 17, 1913”
The Indianapolis Star, Indianapolis, Indiana, October 13, 1913
James Whitcomb Riley, my dear friend,
A little letter I would send,
To let you know in my own way
How glad I am 'tis your birthday.
I pass you almost every day
And feel I know you just the way
I do your poems, sad and gay.
When I was just a little mite
I heard Orphant Annie, every night
When sleep wouldn't come, as it was said.
I heard of granny, and the gingerbread.
But that has been long years ago
And now I'm big, for Dad says so.
For next December, the eighth day,
I'll be 12 years old, the records say.
Now I must close, my good friend dear,
And I hope you'll live for many a year
To celebrate this glorious day.
Next year, I'll write, if I possibly can,
But now I'll sign, Mildred Ruth Spann.