Very recherche organization.
Only seventy-five members out of one thousand.
Do you think as a consistent Socialist that I ought to belong?
What do you suppose is at present engaging my attention in sociology?
I am writing (figurez vous!) a paper on the Care of Dependent Children.
The Professor shuffled up his subjects and dealt them out promiscuously, and that fell to me.
C'est drole ca n'est pas?
There goes the gong for dinner.
I'll post this as I pass the box.
Affectionately, J.
4th June
Dear Daddy,
Very busy time—commencement in ten days, examinations tomorrow; lots of studying, lots of packing, and the outdoor world so lovely that it hurts you to stay inside.
But never mind, vacation's coming.
Julia is going abroad this summer—it makes the fourth time.
No doubt about it, Daddy, goods are not distributed evenly.
Sallie, as usual, goes to the Adirondacks.
And what do you think I am going to do?
You may have three guesses.
Lock Willow?
Wrong.
The Adirondacks with Sallie?
Wrong. (I'll never attempt that again; I was discouraged last year.) Can't you guess anything else?
You're not very inventive.
I'll tell you, Daddy, if you'll promise not to make a lot of objections.
I warn your secretary in advance that my mind is made up.
I am going to spend the summer at the seaside with a Mrs. Charles Paterson and tutor her daughter who is to enter college in the autumn.
I met her through the McBrides, and she is a very charming woman.
I am to give lessons in English and Latin to the younger daughter, too, but I shall have a little time to myself, and I shall be earning fifty dollars a month!
Doesn't that impress you as a perfectly exorbitant amount?
She offered it; I should have blushed to ask for more than twenty-five.
I finish at Magnolia (that's where she lives) the first of September, and shall probably spend the remaining three weeks at Lock Willow—I should like to see the Semples again and all the friendly animals.
How does my programme strike you, Daddy?
I am getting quite independent, you see.
You have put me on my feet and I think I can almost walk alone by now.
Princeton commencement and our examinations exactly coincide—which is an awful blow.
Sallie and I did so want to get away in time for it, but of course that is utterly impossible.
Goodbye, Daddy.
Have a nice summer and come back in the autumn rested and ready for another year of work. (That's what you ought to be writing to me!) I haven't any idea what you do in the summer, or how you amuse yourself.
I can't visualize your surroundings.
Do you play golf or hunt or ride horseback or just sit in the sun and meditate?
Anyway, whatever it is, have a good time and don't forget Judy.
10th June
Dear Daddy,
This is the hardest letter I ever wrote, but I have decided what I must do, and there isn't going to be any turning back.
It is very sweet and generous and dear of you to wish to send me to Europe this summer—for the moment I was intoxicated by the idea; but sober second thoughts said no.
It would be rather illogical of me to refuse to take your money for college, and then use it instead just for amusement!
You mustn't get me used to too many luxuries.
One doesn't miss what one has never had; but it's awfully hard going without things after one has commenced thinking they are his—hers (English language needs another pronoun) by natural right.
Living with Sallie and Julia is an awful strain on my stoical philosophy.