“I cannot tell you, dear little Maggie, how much we all miss
you and darling Princess. I do not like to go to your house and
find no smiling faces looking out of the window, or running to
the front door, or head of the stairs when Uncle Ruthven comes.
So I do not go very often; only now and then to see that all
is going right during your absence. I hear nothing from the
William Tells and Rip Van Winkles, and therefore conclude they
are still enjoying their long nap.
“Our house is quite gay, however, what with the three boys,
Flossy, and Marygold, all of whom are flourishing.
“Flossy was very mopish for a day or two after you left; and
kept himself hidden under sofas and behind curtains, in a most
melancholy manner, refusing to play, and eating very little.
He is in better spirits now, however, though not as frisky as
usual; and Harry and Fred take him out every day for a walk;
but when they come towards home, he always insists on turning
into your street; and when they take him up and bring him to
our house, he falls into low spirits again, and retires into
private life until the next meal-time.
“Marygold is well, and sings away as merrily as he did in
your own room at home. Aunt Annie wanted to put him in the
conservatory with the other birds, but grandmamma said, no: he
must hang in the bow-window of her own sitting-room; for since
she could not have you, she must have something which belonged
to you about her. So there he swings and sings, reminding us
constantly of our Maggie and Bessie so far away.
“As for Frankie, he is as mischievous and roguish as ever,
and pretty saucy into the bargain. He seems very much afraid
that grandmamma will think she is to take his mamma’s place
altogether; and every morning when he comes down to breakfast,
enters the room with,--
“‘Damma, I’ll stay wis oo, and mind oo des dis one more day.
Den I do back my mamma’s house and mind her.’
“If grandmamma tells him to do or not to do any thing, he says:
‘Yes, I’ll mind oo dis once; but oo’re not my mamma.’
“‘But she is my mamma, and I make all little boys mind her,’ I
said to him this morning.
“He looked gravely at me for a moment, and then said, ‘Den be a
dood boy ouself, and den I will see ’bout it.’
“The rogue gave us a good fright yesterday. I was writing
letters in the library, when he came in, and asked if he might
stay with me. I gave him leave, provided he was quiet; and for
a wonder, he was so; standing for some time looking out of the
window, till he saw a poor drunken man go by, when he turned to
me and said,--
“‘When tipseys walk, they run.’
“After that he came down, and I gave him the great book of
animals you know so well, with which he amused himself for some
time, telling the animals about the ‘poor tipseys.’ He was
very sweet and good, and being much engaged with my letters, I
did not pay much attention to him. But, after a time, I looked
around to see if he was in mischief, and he was nowhere to be
seen.
“The book lay open on the floor, and one or two toys beside
it, but no Frankie. The door stood open, and thinking he must
have slipped out, I went in search of him. He was not to be
found. Grandmamma, your two aunts, and all the servants were
soon alarmed, and joined in the search, but all in vain; and we
were just about sending to mamma’s house, to see if he had run
away there, when Aunt Bessie saw a little fat hand peeping out
of the almost closed door of one of the bookcases. She ran and
pulled it open, and there lay our lost boy, fast asleep. He had
crept in among the papers and pamphlets, and, drawing the door
nearly to, had fallen asleep without meaning to, in his quiet
nook. He woke to find us all looking at him, and was very angry
at himself for going to sleep; exclaiming, ‘I des b’lieve I
went to seep, and I tates no more naps in de daytime. I ’samed
of myself.’
“Harry and Fred are going to write to you, so I will leave them
to speak for themselves. We are all well here, and last evening
had the great pleasure of reading the letters you and Bessie
wrote to the Colonel and Mrs. Rush, and which they kindly
brought around to us.
“Write to me soon, and tell all your adventures to your
affectionate uncle,
“RUTHVEN STANTON.”