Several weeks ago, I received this note in the morning mails:
My Dear T. Herman,I am a 20-year-old golden-haired virgin and your greatest admirer. No longer can I suppress my desire: I must have you. Nothing would thrill me more than to be by your side, but I am short of funds and require money for a train ticket, canal-barge fare, and a fancy new frock in which to greet you. Could you see your way into loaning me $300 cash? Your ever-loving and devoted, Miss Bernadette Fiske.
I was so delighted, my colostomy bag promptly filled with a rich, golden urine. I had long been yearning for a mistress, and it was clear to me that this dear girl was the very flower of American womanhood. So, with the assistance of an elaborate mechanical hand-stabilizer, I wrote out and signed a cheque to Miss Fiske for the amount she had requested. Weeks passed and, although the cheque had been cashed, there was still no trace of Miss Bernadette Fiske. I even sent a regiment of my Swiss Guard to the return-address that she had listed, but they only found an abandoned rail-road switch-house. It was clear that I was the victim of a vamp, a loose woman of intrigue who saps the souls of men! Never again, I vowed, would I permit such a scoundreless to capture my heart and purse-strings alike!
Then, just yesterday, I received the following dispatch:
Darling T. Herman,I apologize most deeply for my neglect of you. But it could not be avoided, for when I was ready to board the train, I received word that my sainted mother had fallen gravely ill. I ended up using your generous funds to nurse her back to health at a sanatorium. Now that she has recovered, I would like to join you. But I shall require $1,000; besides needing the necessary train and barge fare, I am in considerable debt with the sanatorium. Fives, tens and twenties preferred. I would be most grateful. Still your beloved, Miss Bernadette Fiske.
Sweet girl! Only her beauty exceeds her charity! How could I ever doubt her sincerity? O, I am fairly swooning with passion for this pure maiden, who rivals the Virgin Mary her-self for sheer godliness! Good Miss Fiske, you shall have your money presently!
T. Herman Zweibel, the great grandson of Onion founder Friedrich Siegfried Zweibel, was born in 1868, became editor of The Onion at age 20, and persisted in various editorial posts until his launching into space in 2001. Zweibel’s name became synonymous with American business success in the 20th century. Many consider him the “Father Of American Journalism,” also the title of his well-known 1943 biography, written by Norman Rombauer.
