“PRECIOUS PET PRINCESS,--It seems to me as if it were two
months instead of two weeks since you went away, and I can’t
tell you how I want to see you. But it is all right, for I
know you are having first-rate times, and dear mamma is getting
ever so much good. We’re not having such a bad time either,
though it’s not like having you all home. Uncle Ruthven is a
first-rate fellow to stay with, I can tell you, and when we
have finished our lessons, he always has some fun on hand for
us. So we don’t have time to feel very lonely. But I am glad
for your sakes that you and Mag were not left behind, for you
would have felt worse about it than Fred and I do.
“Last Saturday we all went to Riverside, we boys on our ponies,
of course, and had a famous day. Uncle John has a new boat,
and he and Uncle Ruthven rowed us across the river,--they let
Fred and me take an oar by turns, too,--and we went up the
Palisades. Isn’t there a splendid view up there, though? You
can see ever and ever so far. There were lots of Bob Whites
about, and we heard them all round us, and we came upon two
fellows with dogs and guns hunting them. I hope they didn’t
have much luck, the old rascals!
“Haven’t we had a time this afternoon? I don’t know just how
it happened, but I think Master Marygold must have opened the
door of his cage himself,--for we have seen him pecking away at
the catch several times lately; and Uncle Ruthven, only this
morning, told Jane to twist a piece of wire round it when she
cleaned the cage. But Jane forgot it, and so this afternoon
Frankie came running in saying, ‘Marydold’s few away;’ and
sure enough the cage was empty and no Marygold to be seen. But
after awhile we heard a saucy ‘cheep,’ and there, on the top
of grandpapa’s picture, sat my gentleman as independent as you
please; and, before we had time to shut the window, out he flew
into the yard. Weren’t we in a way though, thinking what you
and Maggie would say to come home and find him lost. He hopped
around for a while, flying off every time any one went near
him, and at last flew clear away over the neighbors’ gardens,
and we gave him up for lost.
“Grandmamma put his cage outside, hoping he would grow homesick
and come back. And sure enough; for she was taking a nap in
her bow-window about sunset, when she was waked by a ‘cheep,
cheep,’ and there was Marygold hopping about on her work-table,
and asking pardon for his naughtiness as plainly as any bird
could. She brought his cage, and in he popped, glad enough
to be at home. So he’s all safe once more, and his cage made
secure, so he can’t try that dodge again.
“You know Colonel Rush has taken a house at Newport for the
summer, and he wants us all to come there when we get through
with our other wanderings. Won’t it be jolly? Then you know we
are to spend October at dear, old Chalecoo; so you will have
change enough for one six months. What travelled young ladies
you and Maggie will be!
“I think I have written the most correct and proper letter in
the world, and hope your dear little highness will not find any
‘unproper impressions,’ as you once said when Fred used some
slang word; and that it will altogether suit your notions. Lots
of love and kisses to all from
“Your loving brother,
“HARRY.”
Here is Fred’s letter to Maggie.
“DEAR OLD MIDGET,--Don’t I wish you were here that I might give
you a good squeeze and hear you call out, ‘O Fred! you are
cur-r-rushing me!’ I’ll play the bear in the matter of hugs,
when I do get you back,--that is certain. By the way, there’s
a mean chap leading a poor, old, black bear about the streets
here, making him dance, and scrape a fiddle, and other jigs
of that kind. It is not a bit of fun to see the poor, poky,
old thing perform, and he must have been beaten ever so much
before he could be taught. You can see that by the way he is
frightened when his master lifts his stick. It’s a mean shame,
so it is. Don’t you say so, Mag?
“What jolly times you are having! so are we for the matter of
that. Uncle Ruthven is a regular brick,--though I always knew
that,--and so are grandmamma and the colonel, and all the rest.
School breaks up the twentieth of June, and then, hurrah! for
the country. Uncle John has invited Tom Norris to go with us to
Riverside, and stay all the time that we stay. First-rate in
him, wasn’t it? Tom is the jolliest good boy I ever saw: you
never catch him in the least thing that isn’t just up to the
right, and yet he’s the best company and merriest fellow in
the world. He keeps me out of a heap of mischief, many a time,
dear, old chap! that’s so, I know. Dear, old, steady-going Hal!
he often wonders at my tantrums, I know; but he’s good too, and
it is awful hard work to keep out of scrapes in school when
you’ve a quick temper like mine, and not too much thought. I’ll
tell you a secret, Mag: I believe it has helped me a good deal
to see you and Queen Bess take so much pains to cure yourselves
of those two very faults,--you, with your carelessness, and
Bessie, with her passionate temper. I thought it was a shame
if you two little girls did it, that a great fellow like me
shouldn’t. And for that reason I’m going to let you tell dear
mamma some thing that will make her dear eyes dance. Mr. Peters
called me to him this morning,--and I thought for sure I must
be in some row, though I didn’t see what,--and he said he
wanted to tell me that no boy in the school had improved in
character, or taken so much pains with his faults, as I had
during the last year. I don’t want to be puffed up, but didn’t
I feel some pumpkins; but I could most have cried that mamma
wasn’t home for me to tell the good news to. However, when I
went home, there sat grandmamma, the dear, precious, old soul,
so sweet and good and loving; so I just pitched into her and
gave her the news, and a tight squeeze into the bargain. She
was as pleased as could be, but then she isn’t mamma; so just
you tell the darling mother, and bid her shut her eyes, and do
you give her a good choke for me, just as I do, Ducky-Daddles!
and see if she don’t gasp out, ‘Oh, my dear boy!’ and you write
it to me, Mag. And tell papa, Mr. Peters told me if I turned
out such a man as my father,--a true Christian, a perfect
gentleman, and a thorough scholar,--no one could ask more for
me. I never expect to be all that, but it’s something to have
one’s father spoken of that way, and, Mag, do you believe, I
just bawled. And old Peters--I’ll never call him that again if
I remember, only it comes so handy--asked me to go of a little
errand for him. I knew that it was just that he knew I didn’t
want to go back to the school-room with red eyes, and I was
all right again before I came back. He’s a jolly old soul, if
he is strict. But I just tell you, you and her royal highness
can take some of the credit to yourselves; for I know you have
helped me without meaning it. And Uncle Ruthven is as pleased
as any thing, and he said he had seen it himself, and he had
meant to give me a handsome pony for taking pains with myself;
but as papa had given me one when he gave Hal a watch just
before you went away, he would let me say what the present
should be.
“And so, Midget, I told him I should like him to give you and
Bess the pony between you; and he said I had better take a
couple of days to think it over, and he would give me leave to
change my mind. I suppose he thinks I’ll slink out of it; but
I shan’t, so you two may just count on a pony of your own. I
guess there’ll be a side-saddle too, for Uncle Ruth don’t do
things by halves. I’m awfully sleepy, and anybody but you would
be tired of this long letter.
“Your loving brother,
“FREDERICK TALBOT BRADFORD, ESQ.”
Maggie answered her Uncle Ruthven’s letter the very next morning in
these words:--
“DEAR UNCLE RUTHVEN,--Whenever I think of the pleasure of
writing to my absent friends who are away from me in distant
lands I am always very thankful that I am not a quadrewped or
other animal which has only legs and no arms to write with. And
if it had, no brains or ideas, but only instinct which is not
enough to write with. So I thank God He gave me a sencible soul
which thinks, and arms and also pen, ink, and paper. And also
pencils for Bessie has to print with them, and also friends
which we can write to, for if I was an orfun and had no friends
I would be badly of and very lonesome and my ideas of no use.
So I think every one ought to be very grateful for these things
(if they have them) and if they have not let them say God knows
best; and I think it is the duty of the human race to make use
of these things and to write long letters to all their friends,
for it is such a pleasure to have letters and to answer them.
And I am going to write you the longest letter I ever wrote in
my life, because the Bible says, ‘Whatsoever ye would that men
should do unto you, do ye also unto them.’
“But, dear Uncle Ruthven, we have had no adventures to tell you
about. I mean _real real_ adventures; except only one which
was most terrible to hear and was that Bessie met a snake that
was poisonous and nearly bit her, but a good dog of Mr. Powrs
would not let her go on, and so she did not come in the way
of the snake which was a wonderful blessing or she might have
died. And then I would have been like the king Miss Ashton
told us about, whose son was drowned and he never smiled again
nor would I if my Bessie came to such a sad end but would be
unhappy all the days of my existence and never laugh at the
funniest thing that could happen. And I pray our Father in
Heaven that my Bessie will not die while I am alive even to
go to Heaven for I would miss her so very, very much. But I
will not write any more of this most unhappy thing or else my
beloved uncle you will say ‘what a sad, stupid letter Maggie
has written to me,’ and I would not wish any one to take the
liberty of saying such a thing about me.
“Belle’s home which is named Oakdale is a place most beautiful
to behold with such large oak trees that make the most pleasant
of shades and magnolias and vines of jessamine and other sweet
smells most delicious to the nose. I do wish there was a nicer
name to call a nose, it don’t sound nice in a letter. And
such lots and heaps of rice, enough for a million dinner and
breakfasts I should think but I hope I shall never be in the
necessity to eat it for I hate rice. But Bessie likes it very
much so I am glad it grows for her and others. And we had such
fun playing with it and working too for we helped the men a
great deal. Now you need not laugh Uncle Ruthven nor the boys
either if you let them read this letter, for the men said we
did and if you had seen the great bag we filled you would know
it. It was real funny to see the rice run down the wooden
gutters into the hoppers. Isn’t that a queer name?
“Papa said such a funny thing. He said he knew a hopper that
would not be of much use in that mill because it always shut
its mouth whenever any rice came near it, and he meant me. It
made us all laugh so. The next day after to-morrow we are going
to take adieu of Savannah and all the kind people we have come
to know; and of Miss Adams and the doctor; and most of all of
Mr. and Mrs. Norris and Lily. Lily cries about it and wants to
stay with us but her parents have to stay in this place for a
short time and to go home by the steamer, and I am glad and
thankful such is not my fate to be seasick again. Oh! Uncle
Ruthven! it is awful! and you can’t help it if you make up your
mind ever so much. But we go by land which is much better than
the sea to travel on and shall visit many places and see many
surprising things which I shall advertise you of when I know
them myself.
“Bessie and I think we never heard of any thing so kind and
generous as Fred to say he wanted you to give us a pony for
his present and never no never again will I say Fred teases, no
not if he plages me ever so much. But I think he does not plage
so much as he used to. Mamma was so pleased about him and is
at this present moment writing to him. It is a very charming
thing to have sencible and religious parents and I suppose also
it must be so for the parents to have their children improve
and be as sencible and good as is in their natures. But it is
not in mine to be so good as Bessie and I despair of it for it
is not in me. The other day a lady was talking to Bessie and
I heard her say afterwards, ‘That child is a little angel.’ I
suppose she meant _like_ an angel which would be far better for
her to say as it is always best to say just what you mean but I
thank her for the complement to my Bessie and think she must be
a woman of sense.
“Harry wrote to Mamma and said something that hurt my feelings.
He said I wrote very nice letters but they were so full of
moral reflextions and centiment that he almost killed himself
laughing. Now I know he didn’t almost kill himself and Miss
Ashton never taught us reflextions and centiment and I don’t
know what they mean and I wouldn’t do such a thing as to put
them in my letters. I don’t think Harry is very kind to say
that and make fun of me. But don’t you tell any one I said so
for you know I tell you all my secrets dear Uncle Ruthven and
maybe Harry would think I was cross.
“Please give my love to every body I know if I do love them and
if I don’t my complements and most of all to all my own people.
It took me two days to write all this letter which I hope will
give satisfaction from your affectionate beloved
“MAGGIE.”
Last of all here is a little letter which Bessie wrote to her
grandmamma,--
“DEAR DARLING GRANMAMMA,--Your Bessie is going to send a
letter to you to tell you how I love you but I cant rite such
nice leters as Maggie. Dont Maggie make nice leters and she
said she would help me but I toled her I wanted to make it
all myself so you would kno how much I love you. Please dear
Granmamma to rite me an answer to my leter and I hope you will
keep alife till we come home or if you are not dear Manma will
cry and all the rest of us two. I saw a carf in a cart with all
its legs tied and it mad me sorry and I wish it was mine to let
it luse. Baby is so sweet and she has a new trik that is so
cuning. All the time she pulls off her shoes and soks and Mamma
don’t want her to so Nursey says shame shame when she does it
and when baby sees any one else do it now she always calls
shame and she saw a gentelman in the parlor who did not kno how
to be very polite and he sat with his slipper hanging on his
toe and Baby pointed her finger at him and called out very loud
Oh shame shame and every boddy lafed it was so funny. Every
day I am more and more glad for dear Manma feels so much better
and it makes such a joy in my hart that I can’t tell it but you
kno it don’t you dear Granmanma for you are her own mother and
you love her just like she loves me. I am too tired to make it
any longer and I love you and my solger and all my peple and I
send them kisses.
“Good by dear Granmanma
“Your little pet
“BESSIE.”