"Hillsover, October 21st.
Dearest Elsie,--I didn't write you last Saturday, because that was
the day we came back to school, and there hasn't been one minute since
when I could. We thought perhaps Miss Jane would let us off from the
abstracts on Sunday, because it was the first day, and school was
hardly begun; and, if she had, I was going to write to you instead,
but she didn't. She said the only way to keep girls out of mischief
was to keep them busy. Rose Red is sure that something has gone wrong
with Miss Jane's missionary during the vacation,--she's so dreadfully
cross. Oh, dear, how I do hate to come back and be scolded by her
again!
"I forget if I told you about the abstracts. They are of the sermons
on Sunday, you know, and we have to give the texts, and the heads,
and as much as we can remember of the rest. Sometimes Dr. Prince
begins: 'I shall divide my subject into three parts,' and tells what
they are going to be. When he does that, most of the girls take out
their pencils and put them down, and then they don't listen any more.
Katy and I don't, for she says it isn't right not to listen some.
Miss Jane pretends that she reads all the abstracts through, but
she doesn't; for once Rose Red, just to try her, wrote in the middle
of hers, 'I am sitting by my window at this moment, and a red cow is
going down the street. I wonder if she is any relation to Mrs.
Seccomb's cow?' and Miss Jane never noticed it, but marked her
'perfect' all the same. Wasn't it funny?
"But I must tell you about our journey back. Mr. Page came all the
way with us, and was ever so nice. Clarence rode down in the carriage
to the depot. He gave me a real pretty india-rubber and gold pencil
for a good-by present. I think you and Dorry would like Clarence,
only just at first you might say he was rather rude and cross. I did;
but now I like him ever so much. Cousin Olivia gave Katy a worked
collar and sleeves, and me an embroidered pocket-handkerchief with
clover leaves in the corner. Wasn't it kind? I'm sorry I said in
my last letter that we didn't enjoy our vacation. We didn't much;
but it wasn't exactly Cousin Olivia's fault. She meant we should,
but she didn't know how. Some people don't, you know. And don't
tell any one I said so, will you?
"Rose Red got here in the train before we did. She was so glad when we
came that she cried. It was because she was home-sick waiting four
hours at the Nunnery without us, she said. Rose is such a darling!
She had a splendid vacation, and went to three parties and a picnic.
Isn't it queer? her winter bonnet is black velvet trimmed with pink,
and so is mine. I wanted blue at first, but Cousin Olivia said pink
was more stylish; and now I am glad, because I like to be like Rose.
"Katy and I have got No. 2 this term. It's a good deal pleasanter
than our old room, and the entry-stove is just outside the door, so
we shall keep warm. There is sun, too, only Mrs. Nipson has nailed
thick cotton over all the window except a little place at top. Every
window in the house is just so. You can't think how mad the girls
are about it. The first night we had an indignation meeting, and
passed resolutions, and some of the girls said they wouldn't stay,--
they should write to their fathers to come and take them home. None
of them did, though. It's perfectly forlorn, not being able to look
out. Oh, dear, how I wish it were spring!
"We've got a new dining-room. It's a great deal bigger than the old
one, so now we all eat together, and don't have any first and second
tables. It's ever so much nicer, for I used to get so dreadfully
hungry waiting that I didn't know what to do. One thing is horrid,
though, and that is, that every girl has to make a remark in French
every day at dinner. The remarks are about a subject. Mrs. Nipson
gives out the subjects. To-day the subject was 'Les oiseaux,' and
Rose Red said, 'J'aime beaucoup les oiseaux, et surtout ceux qui
sont rotis,' which made us all laugh. That ridiculous little Bella
Arkwright said, 'J'aime beaucoup les oiseaux qui sing.' She thought
sing was French! Every girl in school began, 'J'aime beaucoup les
oiseaux'! To-morrow the subject is 'Jules Cesar.' I'm sure I don't
know what to say. There isn't a word in Ollendorf about him.
"There aren't so many new scholars this term as there were last. The
girls think it is because Mrs. Nipson isn't so popular as Mrs. Florence
used to be. Two or three of the new ones look pleasant, but I don't
know them yet. Louisa Agnew is the nicest girl here next to Rose.
Lilly Page says she is vulgar, because her father paints portraits
and they don't know the same people that Cousin Olivia know, but she
isn't a bit. We went to spend the day there just before we left
Ashburn, and her father and mother are splendid. Their house is
just full of all sorts of queer, interesting things, and pictures;
and Mr. Agnew told us ever so many stories about painters, and what
they did. One was about a boy who used to make figures of lions in
butter, and afterward he became famous. I forget his name. We had
a lovely time. I wish you could see Lou's little sister Daisy. She's
only two, and a perfect little beauty. She has got ten teeth, and
hardly ever cries.
"Please ask papa"--
Just as Clover had got to this point she was interrupted by Katy, who
walked in with her hat on, and a whole handful of letters.
"See here!" she cried. "Isn't this delightful? Miss Marsh took me
with her to the Post-Office, and we found these. Three for you and
two for me, and one for rose. Wait a minute till I give Rose hers,
and we'll read them together."
In another moment the two were cosily seated with their heads close
together, opening their budget. First came one from papa.
"My dear Daughters,"--
"It's for you too, you see," said Katy.
"Last week came your letter of the 31st, and we were glad to hear that
you were well and ready to go back to school. By the time this reaches
you, you will be in Hillsover, and your winter term begun. Make the
most of it, for we all feel as if we could never let you go from home
again. Johnnie says she shall rub Spalding's Prepared Glue all over
your dresses when you come back, so that you cannot stir. I am a
little of the same way of thinking myself. Cecy has returned from
boarding-school, and set up as a young lady. Elsie is much excited
over the party dresses which Mrs. Hall is having made for her, and
goes over every day to see if any thing new has come. I am glad on
this account that you are away just now, for it would not be easy to
keep steady heads and continue you studies, with so much going on
next door. I have sent Cousin Olivia a check to pay for the things
she bought for you, and am much obliged to her for seeing that you
were properly fitted out. Katy was very right to consider expense,
but I wish you to have all things needful. I enclose two ten-dollar
bills, one for each of you, for pocket-money; and, with much love
from the children, am,
"Yours affectionately,
P. Carr."
"P. S.--Cousin Helen has had a sharp attack, but is better."
"I wish papa would write longer letters," said Katy. "He always sends
us money, but he don't send half enough words with it." She folded
the letter, and fondled it affectionately.
"He's always so busy," replied Clover. "Don't you remember how he
used to sit down at his desk and scrabble off his letters, and how
somebody always was sure to ring the bell before he got through?
I'm very glad to have some money, for now I can pay the sixty-two
cents I owe you. It's my turn to read. This is from Elsie, and a
real long one. Put away the bills first, Katy, or they'll be lost.
That's right; now we'll begin together."
"Dear Clover,--You don't know how glad I am when my turn comes to get
a letter all to myself. Of course I read papa's, and all the rest you
write to the family, but it never seems as if you were talking to me
unless you begin 'Dear Elsie.' I wish some time you'd put in a little
note marked 'private,' just for me, which nobody else need see. It
would be such fun! Please do. I should think you would have hated
staying at Cousin Olivia's. When I read what she said about your
travelling dresses looking as if they had come out of the Ark, I was
too mad for any thing. But I shouldn't think you'd want much to go
back to school either, though sometimes it must be splendid. John
has named her old stockinet doll, which she used to call 'Scratch-
face,' 'Nippy,' after Mrs. Nipson; and I made her a muslin cap, and
Dorry drew a pair of black spectacles round her eyes. She is a
perfect fright, and John plays all the time that dreadful things
happen to her. She pricks her with pins, and pretends she has the
ear-ache, and lets her tumble down and hurt herself, till sometimes
I nearly feel sorry, though it's all make-believe. When you wrote
us about only having pudding for dinner, I didn't a bit. John put
her into the rag-closet that very day, and has been starving her to
death ever since, and Phil says it serves her right. You can't
think how awfully lonely I sometimes get without you. If it wasn't
for Helen Gibbs, that new girl I told you about, I shouldn't know
what to do. She is the prettiest girl in Miss McCrane's school.
Her hair curls just like mine, only it is four times as long and a
million times as thick, and her waist is really and truly not much
bigger round than a bed-post. We're the greatest friends. She says
she loves me just exactly as much as if I was her sister, but she
never had any real sisters. She was quite mad the other day because
I said I couldn't love her quite so well as you and Katy; and all
recess-time she wouldn't speak to me, but now we've made up. Dorry
is so awfully in love with her that I never can get him to come into
the room when she is here, and he blushes when we tease him about
her. But this is a great secret. Dorry and I play chess every
evening. He almost always beats unless papa comes behind and helps
me. Phil has learned too, because he always wants to do every thing
that we do. Dorry gives him a castle, and a bishop, and a knight,
and four pawns, and then beats him in six moves. Phil gets so mad
that we can't help laughing. Last night he buttoned his king up
inside his jacket, and said, 'There! you can't checkmate me now,
any way!'
"Cecy has come home. She is a young lady now. She does her hair up
quite different, and wears long dresses. This winter she is going to
parties, and Mrs. Hall is going to have a party for her on Thursday,
with real, grown-up young ladies and gentlemen at it. Cecy has got
some beautiful new dresses,--a white muslin, a blue tarlatan, and a
pink silk. The pink silk is the prettiest, I think. Cecy is real
kind, and lets me see all her things. She has got a lovely breast-
pin too, and a new fan with ivory sticks, and all sorts of things.
I wish I was grown up. It must be so nice. I was to tell you
something, only you mustn't tell any body except Katy. Don't you
remember how Cecy used to say that she never was going out to drive
with young gentlemen, but was going to stay at home and read the
Bible to poor people? Well, she didn't tell the truth, for she
has been out three times already with Sylvester Slack in his buggy.
When I told her she oughtn't to do so, because it was breaking a
promise, she only laughed, and said I was a silly little girl. Isn't
it queer?
"I want to tell you what an awful thing I did the other night. Maria
Avery invited me to tea, and papa said I might go. I didn't want to
much, but I didn't know what to tell Maria, so I went. You know how
poor they are, and how aunt Izzie used to say that they were 'touchy,'
so I thought I would take great care not to hurry home right after
tea, for fear they would think I wasn't having a good time. So I
waited, and waited, and waited, and got so sleepy that I had to pinch
my fingers to keep awake. At last I was sure that it must be almost
nine, so I asked Mr. Avery if he'd please take me home; and don't you
believe, when we got there, it was a quarter past ten, and papa was
coming for me! Dorry said he guessed I must be enjoying myself to
stay so late. I didn't tell anybody about it for three days, because
I knew they'd laugh at me, and they did. Wasn't it funny? And old
Mrs. Avery looked as sleepy as I felt, and kept yawning behind her
hand. I told papa if I had a watch of my own I shouldn't make such
mistakes, and he laughed, and said, 'We'll see.' Oh, do you suppose
that means he's going to give me one?
"We are so proud of Dorry's having taken two prizes at the examination
yesterday. He took the second Latin prize, and the first Mathematics.
Dr. Pullman says he thinks Dorry is one of the most thorough boys he
ever saw. Isn't that nice? The prizes were books: one was the life
of Benjamin Franklin, and the other the Life of General Butler. Papa
says he doesn't think much of the Life of Butler; but Dorry has begun
it, and says it is splendid. Phil says when he takes a prize he wants
candy and a new knife; but he'll have to wait a good while unless he
studies harder than he does now. He has just come in to tease me to
go up into the garret and help him to get down his sled, because he
thinks it is going to snow; but there isn't a sign of it, and the
weather is quite warm. I asked him what I should say for him to you,
and he said, 'Oh, tell her to come home, and any thing you please.'
I said, 'Shall I give her your love, and say that you are very well?'
and he says, 'Oh, yes, Miss Elsie, I guess you'd think yourself mighty
well if your head ached as much as mine does every day.' Don't be
frightened, however, for he's just as fat and rosey as can be; but
almost every day he says he feels sick about school-time. When papa
was at Moorfield, Miss Finch believed him, and let him stay at home
two mornings. I don't wonder at it, for you can think what a face he
makes up; but he got well so fast that she pays no attention to him
now. The other day, about eleven o'clock, papa met him coming along
the road, shying stones at the birds, and making lots of noise. He
told papa he felt so sick that his teacher had let him go home; but
papa noticed that his mouth looked sticky, so he opened his dinner-
basket, and found that the little scamp had eaten up all his dinner
on the road, corned beef, bread and butter, a great piece of mince
pie, and six pears. Papa couldn't help laughing, but he made him
turn around and go right back to school again.
"I told you in my last about Johnnie's going to school with me now.
She is very proud of it, and is always talking about 'Elsie's and my
school.' She is twice as smart as the other girls of her age. Miss
McCrane has put her into the composition class, where they write
compositions on their slates. The first subject was, 'A Kitten;' and
John's began, 'She's a dear, little, soft scratching thing, only you'd
better not pull her by the tail, but she's real cunning.' All the
girls laughed, and Johnnie called out, 'Well, it's true, anyhow.'
"I can't write any more, for I must study my Latin. Beside, this is
the longest letter that ever was. I have been four days writing it.
Please send me one just as long. Old Mary and the children send lots
of love, and papa says, 'Tell Katy if a pudding diet sets her to
growing again she must come home at once, for he couldn't afford it.'
Oh, dear, how I wish I could see you! Please give my love to Rose
Red. She must be perfectly splendid.
"Your affectionate
Elsie."
"Oh, the dear little duck! Isn't that just like her?" said Clover.
"I think Elsie has a real genius for writing, don't you? She tells
all the little things, and is so droll and cunning. Nobody writes
such nice letters. Who's that from, Katy?"
"Cousin Helen, and it's been such a long time coming. Just look at
this date! September 22, a whole month ago!" Then she began to read.
"Dear Katy,--It seems a long time since we have had a talk, but I
have been less well lately, so that it has been difficult to write.
Yesterday I sat up for the first time in several weeks, and to-day
I am dressed and beginning to feel like myself. I wish you could see
my room this morning,--I often wish this,--but it is so particularly
pretty, for little Helen has been in with a great basket full of
leaves and flowers, and together we have dressed it to perfection.
There are four vases of roses, a bowl full of chrysanthemums, and
red leaves round all my pictures. The leaves are Virginia creeper.
It doesn't last long, but is lovely while it lasts. Helen also
brought a bird's nest which the gardener found in a hawthorn-tree
on the lawn. It hangs on a branch, and she has tied it to one side
of my bookshelves. On the opposite side is another nest quite
different,--a great, gray hornets' nest, as big as a band-box, which
came from the mountains a year ago. I wonder if any such grow in the
woods about Hillsover. In spite of the red leaves, the day is warm
as summer, and the windows stand wide open. I suppose it is cooler
with you, but I know it is delicious cold. Now that I think of it,
you must be in Ashburn by this time. I hope you will enjoy every
moment of your vacation.
"Oct. 19th. I did not finish my letter the day it as begun, dear
Katy, and the next morning it proved that I was not so strong as I
fancied, and I had to go to bed again. I am still there, and, as
you see, writing with a pencil; but do not be worried about me, for
the doctor says I am mending, and soon I hope to be up and in my
chair. The red leaves are gone, but the roses are lovely as ever,
for little Helen keeps bringing me fresh ones. She has just been
in to read me her composition. The subject was 'Stars,' and you
can't think how much she found to say about them, She is a bright
little creature, and it is a great pleasure to teach her. I am
hardly ever so sick that she cannot come for her lessons, and she
gets on fast. We have made an arrangement that when she knows more
than I do she is to give me lessons, and I am not sure that the time
is so very far off.
"I must tell you about my Ben. He is a new canary which was given me
in the summer, and lately he has grown so delightfully tame that I
feel as if it were not a bird at all, but a fairy prince come to live
with me and amuse me. The cage door is left open always now, and he
flies in and out as he likes. He is a restless, inquisitive fellow,
and visits any part of the room, trying each fresh thing with his
bill to see if it is good to eat, and then perching on it to see if
it good to sit upon. He mistakes his own reflection in the looking-
glass for another canary, and sits on the pin-cushion twittering and
making love to himself for half an hour at a time. To watch him is
one of my greatest amusements, especially just now when I am in bed so
much. Sometimes he hides and keeps so still that I have not the least
idea where he is. but the moment I call, 'Ben, Ben,' and hold out my
finger, wings begin to rustle, and out he flies and perches on my
finger. He isn't the least bit in the world afraid, but sits on my
head or shoulder, eats out of my mouth, and kisses me with his beak.
He is on the pillow at this moment making runs at my pencil, of which
he is mortally jealous. It is just so with my combs and brushes if I
attempt to do my hair; he cannot bear to have me do any thing but
play with him. I do wish I could show him to you and Clover.
"Little Helen, my other pet, has just come in with a sponge cake which
she frosted herself. She sends her love, and says when you come to
me next summer she will frost you each one just like it. Good-by, my
Katy. I had nothing to write about and have written it, but I never
like to keep silent too long, or let you feel as if you were forgotten
by your loving cousin,
Helen."
"P.S. Be sure to wear plenty of warm wraps for your winter walks.
And, Katy, dear, you must eat meat every day. Mrs. Nipson will
probably give up her favorite pudding now that the cold weather
has begun; but, if not, write to papa."
"Isn't that letter Cousin Helen all over?" said Katy, "So little
about her illness, and so bright and merry, and yet she has really
been sick. Papa says 'a sharp attack.' Isn't she the dearest person
in the world, next to papa I mean?"
"Yes, indeed. There's nobody like her. I do hope we can go to see
her next summer. Now it's my turn. I can't think who this letter
is from. Oh, Clarence! Katy, I can't let you see this. I promised
I wouldn't show his letters to anybody, not even you!"
"Oh, very well. But you've got another. Dorry, isn't it? Read that
first, and I'll go away and leave you in peace."
So Clover read:--
"Dear Clover,--Elsie says she is going to write you to-day; but I
won't stop because next Saturday I'm going out fishing with the
Slacks. There are a great many trout now in Blue Brook. Eugene caught
six the other day,--no, five, one was a minnow. Papa has given me a
splendid rod, it lets out as tall as a house. I hope I shall catch
with it. Alexander says the trout will admire it so much that they
can't help biting; but he was only funning. Elsie and I play chess
most every night. She plays a real good game for a girl. Sometimes
pa helps, and then she beats. Miss Finch is well. She don't keep
house quite like Katy did, and I don't like her so well as I do you,
but she's pretty nice. The other day we had a nutting picnic, and
she gave me and Phil a loaf of Election cake and six quince turnovers
to carry. The boys gave three cheers for her when they saw them.
Did Elsie tell you that I have invented a new machine? It is called
'The Intellectual Peach Parer.' There is a place to hold a book
while you pare the peaches. It is very convenient. I don't think
of any thing else to tell you. Cecy has got home, and is going to
have a party next week. She's grown up now, she says, and she wears
her hair quite different. It's a great deal thicker than it used
to be. Elsie says it's because there are rats in it; but I don't
believe her. Elsie has got a new friend. Her name is Helen Gibbs.
She's quite pretty.
"Your affectionate brother,
Dorry."
P.S.--John wants to put in a note."
John's note was written in a round hand, as easy to read as print.
"Dear Clover,--I am well, and hope you are the same. I wish you would
write me a letter of my own. I go to school with Elsie now. We write
compossizions. They are hard to write. We don't go up into the loft
half so much as we used to when you ware at home. Mrs. Worrett came
to dinner last week. She says she ways two hundred and atey pounds.
I should think it would be dredful to way that. I only way 76. My
head comes up to the mark on the door where you ware mesured when you
ware twelve. Isn't that tal? Good-bye. I send a kiss to Katy.
Your loving
"John."
After they had finished this note, Katy went away, leaving Clover to
open Clarence's letter by herself. It was not so well written or
spelt as Dorry's by any means.
"Dear Clover,--Don't forget what you promised. I mene about not
showing this. And don't tell Lilly I rote. If you do, she'll be
as mad as hops. I haven't been doing much since you went away.
School begun yesterday, and I am glad; for it's awfully dull now that
you girls have gone. Mother says Guest has got flees on him, so she
won't let him come into the house any more. I stay out in the barn
with him insted. He is well, and sends you a wag of his tail. Jim
and me are making him a colar. It is black, with G.P. on it, for
Guest Page, you know. A lot of the boys had a camping out last week.
I went. It was real jolly; but ma wouldn't let me stay all night, so
I lost the best part. They roasted scullpins for supper, and had a
bon-fire. The camp was on Harstnet Hill. Next time you come I'll
take you out there. Pa has gone to Mane on bizness. He said I must
take care of the house, so I've borrowed Jim's gun, and if any robers
come I mean to shoot them. I always go to sleep with a broom agenst
the door, so as to wake up when they open it. This morning I thought
they had come, for the broom was gone, and the gun too; but it was
only Briget. She opened the door, and it fell down; but I didn't wake
up, so she took it away, and put the gun in the closset. I was mad,
I can tell you.
"This is only a short letter, but I hope you will answer it soon.
Give my love to Katy, and tell Dorry that if he likes I'll send him
my compas for his machenery, because I've got two.
"Your affectionate Cousin,
"Clarence Page."
This was the last of the budget. As Clover folded it up, she was
dismayed by the tinkle of the tea-bell.
"Oh, dear!" she cried, "there's tea, and I have not finished my letter
to Elsie. Where has the afternoon gone! How splendid it has been! I
wish I could have four letters every day as long as I live."