Dear Judy

This is to tell you that the mountains are higher than usual, the woods greener, and the lake bluer.

People seem late about coming up this year. The Harrimans’ camp is the only other one at our end of the lake that is open. The clubhouse is very scantily supplied with dancing men, but we have as house guest an obliging young politician who likes to dance, so I am not discommoded by the general scarcity.

The affairs of the nation and the rearing of orphans are alike delegated to the background while we paddle about among the lily pads of this delectable lake. I look forward with reluctance to 7:56 next Monday morning, when I turn my back on the mountains. The awful thing about a vacation is that the moment it begins your happiness is already clouded by its approaching end.

I hear a voice on the veranda asking if Sallie is to be found within or without.

ADDIO!

S.

August 3.

Dear Judy:

Back at the John Grier, reshouldering the burdens of the coming generation. What should meet my eyes upon entering these grounds but John Cobden, of pancake turner memory, wearing a badge upon his sleeve. I turned it to me and read “S. P. C. A.” in letters of gold! The doctor, during my absence, has formed a local branch of the Cruelty to Animals, and made Johnnie its president.

I hear that yesterday he stopped the workmen on the foundation for the new farm cottage and scolded them severely for whipping their horses up the incline! None of all this strikes any one but me as funny.

There’s a lot of news, but with you due in four days, why bother to write? Just one delicious bit I am saving for the end.

So hold your breath. You are going to receive a thrill on page 4. You should hear Sadie Kate squeal! Jane is cutting her hair.

Instead of wearing it in two tight braids like this—our little colleen will in the future look like this—

“Them pigtails got on my nerves,” says Jane.

You can see how much more stylish and becoming the present coiffure is. I think somebody will be wanting to adopt her. Only Sadie Kate is such an independent, manly little creature; she is eminently fitted by nature to shift for herself. I must save adopting parents for the helpless ones.

You should see our new clothes! I can’t wait for this assemblage of rosebuds to burst upon you. And you should have seen those blue ginghamed eyes brighten when the new frocks were actually given out—three for each girl, all different colors, and all perfectly private personal property, with the owner’s indelible name inside the collar. Mrs. Lippett’s lazy system of having each child draw from the wash a promiscuous dress each week, was an insult to feminine nature.

Sadie Kate is squealing like a baby pig. I must go to see if Jane has by mistake clipped off an ear.

Jane hasn’t. Sadie’s excellent ears are still intact. She is just squealing on principle; the way one does in a dentist’s chair, under the belief that it is going to hurt the next instant.

I really can’t think of anything else to write except my news,—so here it is,—and I hope you’ll like it.

I am engaged to be married.

My love to you both.

S. McB.