June 4th.
_Dear Daddy_,
Very busy time--commencement in ten days, examinations to-morrow;
lots of studying, lots of packing, and the outdoors world so lovely
that it hurts you to stay inside.
But never mind, vacation’s coming. Julia is going abroad this
summer--it makes the fourth time. No doubt about it, Daddy, goods
are not distributed evenly. Sallie, as usual, goes to the
Adirondacks. And what do you think I am going to do? You may have
three guesses. Lock Willow? Wrong. The Adirondacks with Sallie?
Wrong. (I’ll never attempt that again; I was discouraged last
year.) Can’t you guess anything else? You’re not very inventive.
I’ll tell you, Daddy, if you’ll promise not to make a lot of
objections. I warn your secretary ahead of time that my mind is made
up.
I am going to spend the summer at the seaside with a Mrs. Charles
Paterson and tutor her daughter who is to enter college in the
autumn. I met her through the McBrides, and she is a very charming
woman. I am to give lessons in English and Latin to the younger
daughter, too, but I shall have a little time to myself, and I shall
be earning fifty dollars a month! Doesn’t that impress you as a
perfectly exorbitant amount? She offered it; I should have blushed
to ask more than twenty-five.
I finish at Magnolia (that’s where she lives) the first of
September and shall probably spend the remaining three weeks at Lock
Willow--I should like to see the Semples again and all the friendly
animals.
How does my program strike you, Daddy? I am getting quite
independent, you see. You have put me on my feet and I think I can
almost walk alone by now.
Princeton commencement and our examinations exactly coincide--which
is an awful blow. Sallie and I did so want to get away in time for
it, but of course that is utterly impossible.
Good-by, Daddy. Have a nice summer and come back in the autumn
rested and ready for another year of work. (That’s what you ought
to be writing to me!) I haven’t an idea what you do in the summer,
or how you amuse yourself. I can’t visualize your surroundings. Do
you play golf or hunt or ride horseback or just sit in the sun and
meditate?
Anyway, whatever it is, have a good time and don’t forget Judy.
June Tenth.
_Dear Daddy_,
This is the hardest letter I ever wrote, but I have decided what I
must do, and there isn’t going to be any turning back. It is very
sweet and generous and dear of you to wish to send me to Europe this
summer--for the moment I was intoxicated by the idea; but sober
second thoughts said no. It would be rather illogical of me to
refuse to take your money for college, and then use it instead just
for amusement! You mustn’t get me used to too many luxuries. One
doesn’t miss what one has never had; but it is awfully hard going
without things after one has commenced thinking they are his--hers
(English language needs another pronoun) by natural right. Living
with Sallie and Julia is an awful strain on my stoical philosophy.
They have both had things from the time they were babies; they
accept happiness as a matter of course. The World, they think, owes
them everything they want. Maybe the World does--in any case, it
seems to acknowledge the debt and pay up. But as for me, it owes me
nothing, and distinctly told me so in the beginning. I have no right
to borrow on credit, for there will come a time when the World will
repudiate my claim.
I seem to be floundering in a sea of metaphor--but I hope you grasp
my meaning? Anyway, I have a very strong feeling that the only
honest thing for me to do is to teach this summer and begin to
support myself.
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