Listen to what has happened.
Jerusha Abbott has won the short-story contest (a twenty-five dollar prize) that the Monthly holds every year.
And she's a Sophomore!
The contestants are mostly Seniors.
When I saw my name posted, I couldn't quite believe it was true.
Maybe I am going to be an author after all.
I wish Mrs. Lippett hadn't given me such a silly name—it sounds like an author-ess, doesn't it?
Also I have been chosen for the spring dramatics—As You Like It out of doors.
I am going to be Celia, own cousin to Rosalind.
And lastly: Julia and Sallie and I are going to New York next Friday to do some spring shopping and stay all night and go to the theatre the next day with 'Master Jervie.'
He invited us.
Julia is going to stay at home with her family, but Sallie and I are going to stop at the Martha Washington Hotel.
Did you ever hear of anything so exciting?
I've never been in a hotel in my life, nor in a theatre; except once when the Catholic Church had a festival and invited the orphans, but that wasn't a real play and it doesn't count.
And what do you think we're going to see?
Hamlet.
Think of that!
We studied it for four weeks in Shakespeare class and I know it by heart.
I am so excited over all these prospects that I can scarcely sleep.
Goodbye, Daddy.
This is a very entertaining world.
Yours ever, Judy
PS.
I've just looked at the calendar.
It's the 28th.
Another postscript.
I saw a street car conductor today with one brown eye and one blue.
Wouldn't he make a nice villain for a detective story?
7th April
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
Mercy!
Isn't New York big?
Worcester is nothing to it.
Do you mean to tell me that you actually live in all that confusion?
I don't believe that I shall recover for months from the bewildering effect of two days of it.
I can't begin to tell you all the amazing things I've seen; I suppose you know, though, since you live there yourself.
But aren't the streets entertaining?
And the people?
And the shops?
I never saw such lovely things as there are in the windows.
It makes you want to devote your life to wearing clothes.
Sallie and Julia and I went shopping together Saturday morning.
Julia went into the very most gorgeous place I ever saw, white and gold walls and blue carpets and blue silk curtains and gilt chairs.
A perfectly beautiful lady with yellow hair and a long black silk trailing gown came to meet us with a welcoming smile.
I thought we were paying a social call, and started to shake hands, but it seems we were only buying hats—at least Julia was.
She sat down in front of a mirror and tried on a dozen, each lovelier than the last, and bought the two loveliest of all.
I can't imagine any joy in life greater than sitting down in front of a mirror and buying any hat you choose without having first to consider the price!
There's no doubt about it, Daddy; New York would rapidly undermine this fine stoical character which the John Grier Home so patiently built up.
And after we'd finished our shopping, we met Master Jervie at Sherry's.
I suppose you've been in Sherry's?