A Maiden's dream

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It was in the month of November when the wintry winds start blowing that the hand of fate hrew me into one of those little adventures that come into a man's life.

I woke up that morning with an aching sensation in my back which I could not shake off I remembered a friend who not long ago was afflicted the same way and recommended going to a masseur for treatment. With this in mind, I strolled down old Broadway, when I noticed a neat little sign which read:

Duval, masseur. After pondering a moment, I made up my mind to consult this massage artist and see what could be done for my aching mack. Going up stairs, to the second floor, I entered the neat little waiting room and was approached by a very light and beautiful girl, who by her broken english, seemed to be French. To her I stated my reason and in answer she asked me to be seated and wait my turn, which, would be in a few minutes. After a short time, I was roused from my thoughts by the nifty maid who asked me to step into madam's office. I nearly collapsed when she said madam, as I had always thought that all masseurs were men.

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