I am eight years old, and the youngest of the family except my
little brother Lionel, who has just begun to go to school, and he
thinks he is a man because he wears long boots, a soldier cap, and
can spell "my cat."
We have a dear little canary that Aunt Belle gave my sister Fanny.
We call him Peter the Great; and indeed he makes a great noise
sometimes, if he is little. We have a dog too, a setter, and my
brother Charlie Ross, who is now at school in Rhode Island, named
him Ivan the Terrible. He can shut the door, walk on his hind-legs,
sit up and beg, and can jump a stick ever so high, and only has to
be told a few times.
I must tell you now about my sister Fanny, who is three years older
than I am. Her birthday came February 27, the same day that Mr.
Longfellow's did, so she said she would write him a letter, and she
did; and--would you believe it?--he sent her a dear little printed
letter (for he was too ill to write), with his autograph and the
date in it.
Now don't you think he was a dear good man to do that for only a
little girl? Fanny is so pleased! She says she will keep it until
she is old and gray, but she don't look much like it now. We have
taken HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE all its life, and expect to forever. I
have written all this letter myself, and hope you will like it.