Daddy-Long-Legs Page 5

  We're going to begin threshing oats tomorrow; a steam engine is comingand three extra men.

  It grieves me to tell you that Buttercup (the spotted cow with onehorn, Mother of Lesbia) has done a disgraceful thing. She got into theorchard Friday evening and ate apples under the trees, and ate and ateuntil they went to her head. For two days she has been perfectly deaddrunk! That is the truth I am telling. Did you ever hear anything soscandalous?

  Sir, I remain, Your affectionate orphan, Judy Abbott

  PS. Indians in the first chapter and highwaymen in the second. I holdmy breath. What can the third contain? 'Red Hawk leapt twenty feet inthe air and bit the dust.' That is the subject of the frontispiece.Aren't Judy and Jervie having fun?

  15th September

  Dear Daddy,

  I was weighed yesterday on the flour scales in the general store at theComers. I've gained nine pounds! Let me recommend Lock Willow as ahealth resort.

  Yours ever, Judy

  Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

  Behold me--a Sophomore! I came up last Friday, sorry to leave LockWillow, but glad to see the campus again. It is a pleasant sensationto come back to something familiar. I am beginning to feel at home incollege, and in command of the situation; I am beginning, in fact, tofeel at home in the world--as though I really belonged to it and hadnot just crept in on sufferance.

  I don't suppose you understand in the least what I am trying to say. Aperson important enough to be a Trustee can't appreciate the feelingsof a person unimportant enough to be a foundling.

  And now, Daddy, listen to this. Whom do you think I am rooming with?Sallie McBride and Julia Rutledge Pendleton. It's the truth. We havea study and three little bedrooms--VOILA!

  Sallie and I decided last spring that we should like to room together,and Julia made up her mind to stay with Sallie--why, I can't imagine,for they are not a bit alike; but the Pendletons are naturallyconservative and inimical (fine word!) to change. Anyway, here we are.Think of Jerusha Abbott, late of the John Grier Home for Orphans,rooming with a Pendleton. This is a democratic country.

  Sallie is running for class president, and unless all signs fail, sheis going to be elected. Such an atmosphere of intrigue you should seewhat politicians we are! Oh, I tell you, Daddy, when we women get ourrights, you men will have to look alive in order to keep yours.Election comes next Saturday, and we're going to have a torchlightprocession in the evening, no matter who wins.

  I am beginning chemistry, a most unusual study. I've never seenanything like it before. Molecules and Atoms are the materialemployed, but I'll be in a position to discuss them more definitelynext month.

  I am also taking argumentation and logic.

  Also history of the whole world.

  Also plays of William Shakespeare.

  Also French.

  If this keeps up many years longer, I shall become quite intelligent.

  I should rather have elected economics than French, but I didn't dare,because I was afraid that unless I re-elected French, the Professorwould not let me pass--as it was, I just managed to squeeze through theJune examination. But I will say that my high-school preparation wasnot very adequate.

  There's one girl in the class who chatters away in French as fast asshe does in English. She went abroad with her parents when she was achild, and spent three years in a convent school. You can imagine howbright she is compared with the rest of us--irregular verbs are mereplaythings. I wish my parents had chucked me into a French conventwhen I was little instead of a foundling asylum. Oh no, I don'teither! Because then maybe I should never have known you. I'd ratherknow you than French.

  Goodbye, Daddy. I must call on Harriet Martin now, and, havingdiscussed the chemical situation, casually drop a few thoughts on thesubject of our next president.

  Yours in politics, J. Abbott

  17th October

  Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

  Supposing the swimming tank in the gymnasium were filled full of lemonjelly, could a person trying to swim manage to keep on top or would hesink?

  We were having lemon jelly for dessert when the question came up. Wediscussed it heatedly for half an hour and it's still unsettled.Sallie thinks that she could swim in it, but I am perfectly sure thatthe best swimmer in the world would sink. Wouldn't it be funny to bedrowned in lemon jelly?

  Two other problems are engaging the attention of our table.

  1st. What shape are the rooms in an octagon house? Some of the girlsinsist that they're square; but I think they'd have to be shaped like apiece of pie. Don't you?

  2nd. Suppose there were a great big hollow sphere made oflooking-glass and you were sitting inside. Where would it stopreflecting your face and begin reflecting your back? The more onethinks about this problem, the more puzzling it becomes. You can seewith what deep philosophical reflection we engage our leisure!

  Did I ever tell you about the election? It happened three weeks ago,but so fast do we live, that three weeks is ancient history. Salliewas elected, and we had a torchlight parade with transparencies saying,'McBride for Ever,' and a band consisting of fourteen pieces (threemouth organs and eleven combs).

  We're very important persons now in '258.' Julia and I come in for agreat deal of reflected glory. It's quite a social strain to be livingin the same house with a president.

  Bonne nuit, cher Daddy.

  Acceptez mez compliments, Tres respectueux, je suis, Votre Judy

  12th November

  Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

  We beat the Freshmen at basket ball yesterday. Of course we'repleased--but oh, if we could only beat the juniors! I'd be willing tobe black and blue all over and stay in bed a week in a witch-hazelcompress.

  Sallie has invited me to spend the Christmas vacation with her. Shelives in Worcester, Massachusetts. Wasn't it nice of her? I shalllove to go. I've never been in a private family in my life, except atLock Willow, and the Semples were grown-up and old and don't count.But the McBrides have a houseful of children (anyway two or three) anda mother and father and grandmother, and an Angora cat. It's aperfectly complete family! Packing your trunk and going away is morefun than staying behind. I am terribly excited at the prospect.

  Seventh hour--I must run to rehearsal. I'm to be in the Thanksgivingtheatricals. A prince in a tower with a velvet tunic and yellow curls.Isn't that a lark?

  Yours, J. A.

  Saturday

  Do you want to know what I look like? Here's a photograph of all threethat Leonora Fenton took.

  The light one who is laughing is Sallie, and the tall one with her nosein the air is Julia, and the little one with the hair blowing acrossher face is Judy--she is really more beautiful than that, but the sunwas in her eyes.

  'STONE GATE', WORCESTER, MASS., 31st December

  Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

  I meant to write to you before and thank you for your Christmas cheque,but life in the McBride household is very absorbing, and I don't seemable to find two consecutive minutes to spend at a desk.

  I bought a new gown--one that I didn't need, but just wanted. MyChristmas present this year is from Daddy-Long-Legs; my family justsent love.

  I've been having the most beautiful vacation visiting Sallie. Shelives in a big old-fashioned brick house with white trimmings set backfrom the street--exactly the kind o
f house that I used to look at socuriously when I was in the John Grier Home, and wonder what it couldbe like inside. I never expected to see with my own eyes--but here Iam! Everything is so comfortable and restful and homelike; I walk fromroom to room and drink in the furnishings.

  It is the most perfect house for children to be brought up in; withshadowy nooks for hide and seek, and open fire places for pop-corn, andan attic to romp in on rainy days and slippery banisters with acomfortable flat knob at the bottom, and a great big sunny kitchen, anda nice, fat, sunny cook who has lived in the family thirteen years andalways saves out a piece of dough for the children to bake. Just thesight of such a house makes you want to be a child all over again.

  And as for families! I never dreamed they could be so nice. Salliehas a father and mother and grandmother, and the sweetestthree-year-old baby sister all over curls, and a medium-sized brotherwho always forgets to wipe his feet, and a big, good-looking brothernamed Jimmie, who is a junior at Princeton.

  We have the jolliest times at the table--everybody laughs and jokes andtalks at once, and we don't have to say grace beforehand. It's arelief not having to thank Somebody for every mouthful you eat. (Idare say I'm blasphemous; but you'd be, too, if you'd offered as muchobligatory thanks as I have.)

  Such a lot of things we've done--I can't begin to tell you about them.Mr. McBride owns a factory and Christmas eve he had a tree for theemployees' children. It was in the long packing-room which wasdecorated with evergreens and holly. Jimmie McBride was dressed asSanta Claus and Sallie and I helped him distribute the presents.

  Dear me, Daddy, but it was a funny sensation! I felt as benevolent asa Trustee of the John Grier home. I kissed one sweet, sticky littleboy--but I don't think I patted any of them on the head!

  And two days after Christmas, they gave a dance at their own house forME.

  It was the first really true ball I ever attended--college doesn'tcount where we dance with girls. I had a new white evening gown (yourChristmas present--many thanks) and long white gloves and white satinslippers. The only drawback to my perfect, utter, absolute happinesswas the fact that Mrs. Lippett couldn't see me leading the cotillionwith Jimmie McBride. Tell her about it, please, the next time youvisit the J. G. H.

  Yours ever, Judy Abbott

  PS. Would you be terribly displeased, Daddy, if I didn't turn out tobe a Great Author after all, but just a Plain Girl?

  6.30, Saturday

  Dear Daddy,

  We started to walk to town today, but mercy! how it poured. I likewinter to be winter with snow instead of rain.

  Julia's desirable uncle called again this afternoon--and brought afive-pound box of chocolates. There are advantages, you see, aboutrooming with Julia.

  Our innocent prattle appeared to amuse him and he waited for a latertrain in order to take tea in the study. We had an awful lot oftrouble getting permission. It's hard enough entertaining fathers andgrandfathers, but uncles are a step worse; and as for brothers andcousins, they are next to impossible. Julia had to swear that he washer uncle before a notary public and then have the county clerk'scertificate attached. (Don't I know a lot of law?) And even then Idoubt if we could have had our tea if the Dean had chanced to see howyoungish and good-looking Uncle Jervis is.

  Anyway, we had it, with brown bread Swiss cheese sandwiches. He helpedmake them and then ate four. I told him that I had spent last summerat Lock Willow, and we had a beautiful gossipy time about the Semples,and the horses and cows and chickens. All the horses that he used toknow are dead, except Grover, who was a baby colt at the time of hislast visit--and poor Grove now is so old he can just limp about thepasture.

  He asked if they still kept doughnuts in a yellow crock with a blueplate over it on the bottom shelf of the pantry--and they do! Hewanted to know if there was still a woodchuck's hole under the pile ofrocks in the night pasture--and there is! Amasai caught a big, fat,grey one there this summer, the twenty-fifth great-grandson of the oneMaster Jervis caught when he was a little boy.

  I called him 'Master Jervie' to his face, but he didn't appear to beinsulted. Julia says she has never seen him so amiable; he's usuallypretty unapproachable. But Julia hasn't a bit of tact; and men, Ifind, require a great deal. They purr if you rub them the right wayand spit if you don't. (That isn't a very elegant metaphor. I mean itfiguratively.)

  We're reading Marie Bashkirtseff's journal. Isn't it amazing? Listento this: 'Last night I was seized by a fit of despair that foundutterance in moans, and that finally drove me to throw the dining-roomclock into the sea.'

  It makes me almost hope I'm not a genius; they must be very wearing tohave about--and awfully destructive to the furniture.

  Mercy! how it keeps Pouring. We shall have to swim to chapel tonight.

  Yours ever, Judy

  20th Jan.

  Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

  Did you ever have a sweet baby girl who was stolen from the cradle ininfancy?

  Maybe I am she! If we were in a novel, that would be the denouement,wouldn't it?

  It's really awfully queer not to know what one is--sort of exciting andromantic. There are such a lot of possibilities. Maybe I'm notAmerican; lots of people aren't. I may be straight descended from theancient Romans, or I may be a Viking's daughter, or I may be the childof a Russian exile and belong by rights in a Siberian prison, or maybeI'm a Gipsy--I think perhaps I am. I have a very WANDERING spirit,though I haven't as yet had much chance to develop it.

  Do you know about that one scandalous blot in my career the time I ranaway from the asylum because they punished me for stealing cookies?It's down in the books free for any Trustee to read. But really,Daddy, what could you expect? When you put a hungry little nine-yeargirl in the pantry scouring knives, with the cookie jar at her elbow,and go off and leave her alone; and then suddenly pop in again,wouldn't you expect to find her a bit crumby? And then when you jerkher by the elbow and box her ears, and make her leave the table whenthe pudding comes, and tell all the other children that it's becauseshe's a thief, wouldn't you expect her to run away?

  I only ran four miles. They caught me and brought me back; and everyday for a week I was tied, like a naughty puppy, to a stake in the backyard while the other children were out at recess.

  Oh, dear! There's the chapel bell, and after chapel I have a committeemeeting. I'm sorry because I meant to write you a very entertainingletter this time.

  Auf wiedersehen Cher Daddy, Pax tibi! Judy

  PS. There's one thing I'm perfectly sure of I'm not a Chinaman.

  4th February

  Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

  Jimmie McBride has sent me a Princeton banner as big as one end of theroom; I am very grateful to him for remembering me, but I don't knowwhat on earth to do with it. Sallie and Julia won't let me hang it up;our room this year is furnished in red, and you can imagine what aneffect we'd have if I added orange and black. But it's such nice,warm, thick felt, I hate to waste it. Would it be very improper tohave it made into a bath robe? My old one shrank when it was washed.

  I've entirely omitted of late telling you what I am learning, butthough you might not imagine it from my letters, my time is exclusivelyoccupied with study. It's a very bewildering matter to get educated infive branches at once.

  'The test of true scholarship,' says Chemistry Professor, 'is apainstaking passion for detail.'

  'Be careful not to keep your eyes glued to detail,' says HistoryProfessor. 'Stand far enough away to get a perspective of the whole.'

  You can see with what nicety we have to trim our sails betweenchemistry and history. I
like the historical method best. If I saythat William the Conqueror came over in 1492, and Columbus discoveredAmerica in 1100 or 1066 or whenever it was, that's a mere detail thatthe Professor overlooks. It gives a feeling of security andrestfulness to the history recitation, that is entirely lacking inchemistry.

  Sixth-hour bell--I must go to the laboratory and look into a littlematter of acids and salts and alkalis. I've burned a hole as big as aplate in the front of my chemistry apron, with hydrochloric acid. Ifthe theory worked, I ought to be able to neutralize that hole with goodstrong ammonia, oughtn't I?

  Examinations next week, but who's afraid?

  Yours ever, Judy

  5th March