LGDI - (HSG Synd.#012) - Uncle Harry's Bones

Personal notice, dangerous my stockin' trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Say, have you got any skeletons hanging in the closet?

If so, dig them out and set them by the radio, because we have a dandy story that's gonna make them feel right at home. It's called Uncle Harry's Bones, and it's complete, all except for his floating rib, ribbed you lost somewhere between 18th and 19th on Chestnut Street. Now where they keep Uncle Harry's mortal remains, only time will tell. The size George Valentine has to have

something to do for the next little while, otherwise he wouldn't be able to go around saying, let George do it, which would not be good since that is his aim in life. Anyway, if the Maestro will throw us a bone and eat flat, we'll get on with the effort.

My dear Mr. Valentine, you will please report to me at the State of the Farm. That's two miles down the road from Pine Lake if you turn right at the Red Silk Post Office or the house with the unpainted shutters if you come over the hill.

I want you to clearly understand that you're working for me no matter what anybody says and lordy knows the people around here know how to say things. For instance they all say Uncle Harry is there Uncle but he's not.

He's mine and nobody else is. Mr. Valentine please come quick. My trouble is I don't know if Uncle Harry is Uncle Harry or somebody else who's not important. I've got to find out, now don't you think?