I ought to have returned it very much more graciously.
But in any case, I had to return it.
It's different with me than with other girls.
They can take things naturally from people.
They have fathers and brothers and aunts and uncles; but I can't be on any such relations with any one.
I like to pretend that you belong to me, just to play with the idea, but of course I know you don't.
I'm alone, really—with my back to the wall fighting the world—and I get sort of gaspy when I think about it.
I put it out of my mind, and keep on pretending; but don't you see, Daddy?
I can't accept any more money than I have to, because some day I shall be wanting to pay it back, and even as great an author as I intend to be won't be able to face a PERFECTLY TREMENDOUS debt.
I'd love pretty hats and things, but I mustn't mortgage the future to pay for them.
You'll forgive me, won't you, for being so rude?
I have an awful habit of writing impulsively when I first think things, and then posting the letter beyond recall.
But if I sometimes seem thoughtless and ungrateful, I never mean it.
In my heart I thank you always for the life and freedom and independence that you have given me.
My childhood was just a long, sullen stretch of revolt, and now I am so happy every moment of the day that I can't believe it's true.
I feel like a made-up heroine in a story-book.
It's a quarter past two.
I'm going to tiptoe out to post this off now.
You'll receive it in the next mail after the other; so you won't have a very long time to think bad of me.
Good night, Daddy, I love you always, Judy
4th May
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
Field Day last Saturday.
It was a very spectacular occasion.
First we had a parade of all the classes, with everybody dressed in white linen, the Seniors carrying blue and gold Japanese umbrellas, and the juniors white and yellow banners.
Our class had crimson balloons—very fetching, especially as they were always getting loose and floating off—and the Freshmen wore green tissue-paper hats with long streamers.
Also we had a band in blue uniforms hired from town.
Also about a dozen funny people, like clowns in a circus, to keep the spectators entertained between events.
Julia was dressed as a fat country man with a linen duster and whiskers and baggy umbrella.
Patsy Moriarty (Patrici really.
Did you ever hear such a name?
Mrs. Lippett couldn't have done better) who is tall and thin was Julia's wife in a absurd green bonnet over one ear.
Waves of laughter followed them the whole length of the course.
Julia played the part extremely well.
I never dreamed that a Pendleton could display so much comedy spirit—begging Master Jervie's pardon; I don't consider him a true Pendleton though, any more than I consider you a true Trustee.
Sallie and I weren't in the parade because we were entered for the events.
And what do you think?
We both won!
At least in something.
We tried for the running broad jump and lost; but Sallie won the pole-vaulting (seven feet three inches) and I won the fifty-yard sprint (eight seconds).
I was pretty panting at the end, but it was great fun, with the whole class waving balloons and cheering and yelling:
What's the matter with Judy Abbott?
She's all right.
Who's all right?
Judy Ab-bott!
That, Daddy, is true fame.
Then trotting back to the dressing tent and being rubbed down with alcohol and having a lemon to suck.
You see we're very professional.
It's a fine thing to win an event for your class, because the class that wins the most gets the athletic cup for the year.
The Seniors won it this year, with seven events to their credit.