Saturday.
Do you want to know what I look like? Here’s a photograph of all
three that Leonora Fenton took.
The light one who is laughing is Sallie, and the tall one with her
nose in the air is Julia, and the little one with the hair blowing
across her face is Judy--she is really more beautiful than that, but
the sun was in her eyes.
“STONE GATE,”
WORCESTER, MASS.,
December 31st.
_Dear Daddy-Long-Legs_,
I meant to write to you before and thank you for your Christmas
check, but life in the McBride household is very absorbing, and I
don’t seem able to find two consecutive minutes to spend at a desk.
I bought a new gown--one that I didn’t need, but just wanted. My
Christmas present this year is from Daddy-Long-Legs; my family just
sent love.
I’ve been having the most beautiful vacation visiting Sallie. She
lives in a big old-fashioned brick house with white trimmings set
back from the street--exactly the kind of house that I used to look
at so curiously when I was in the John Grier Home, and wonder what
it could be like inside. I never expected to see with my own
eyes--but here I am! Everything is so comfortable and restful and
homelike; I walk from room to room and drink in the furnishings.
It is the most perfect house for children to be brought up in; with
shadowy nooks for hide and seek, and open fireplaces for pop-corn,
and an attic to romp in on rainy days, and slippery banisters with a
comfortable flat knob at the bottom, and a great big sunny kitchen,
and a nice fat, sunny cook who has lived in the family thirteen
years and always saves out a piece of dough for the children to
bake. Just the sight of such a house makes you want to be a child
all over again.
And as for families! I never dreamed they could be so nice. Sallie
has a father and mother and grandmother, and the sweetest
three-year-old baby sister all over curls, and a medium-sized
brother who always forgets to wipe his feet, and a big, good-looking
brother named Jimmie, who is a junior at Princeton.
We have the jolliest times at the table--everybody laughs and jokes
and talks at once, and we don’t have to say grace beforehand. It’s
a relief not having to thank Somebody for every mouthful you eat.
(I dare say I’m blasphemous; but you’d be, too, if you’d offered
as much obligatory thanks as I have.)
Such a lot of things we’ve done--I can’t begin to tell you about
them. Mr. McBride owns a factory, and Christmas eve he had a tree
for the employees’ children. It was in the long packing-room which
was decorated with evergreens and holly. Jimmie McBride was dressed
as Santa Claus, and Sallie and I helped him distribute the presents.
Dear me, Daddy, but it was a funny sensation! I felt as benevolent
as a Trustee of the John Grier Home. I kissed one sweet, sticky
little boy--but I don’t think I patted any of them on the head!
And two days after Christmas, they gave a dance at their own house
for ME.
It was the first really true ball I ever attended--college doesn’t
count where we dance with girls. I had a new white evening gown
(your Christmas present--many thanks) and long white gloves and
white satin slippers. The only drawback to my perfect, utter,
absolute happiness was the fact that Mrs. Lippett couldn’t see me
leading the cotillion with Jimmie McBride. Tell her about it,
please, the next time you visit the J. G. H.
Yours ever,