August 19th.
_Dear Daddy-Long-Legs_,
My window looks out on the loveliest landscape--ocean-scape
rather--nothing but water and rocks.
The summer goes. I spend the morning with Latin and English and
algebra and my two stupid girls. I don’t know how Marion is ever
going to get into college, or stay in after she gets there. And as
for Florence, she is hopeless--but oh! such a little beauty. I don’t
suppose it matters in the least whether they are stupid or not so
long as they are pretty? One can’t help thinking though, how their
conversation will bore their husbands, unless they are fortunate
enough to obtain stupid husbands. I suppose that’s quite possible;
the world seems to be filled with stupid men; I’ve met a number
this summer.
In the afternoon we take a walk on the cliffs, or swim, if the tide
is right. I can swim in salt water with the utmost ease--you see my
education is already being put to use!
A letter comes from Mr. Jervis Pendleton in Paris, rather a short,
concise letter; I’m not quite forgiven yet for refusing to follow
his advice. However, if he gets back in time, he will see me for a
few days at Lock Willow before college opens, and if I am very nice
and sweet and docile, I shall (I am led to infer) be received into
favor again.
Also a letter from Sallie. She wants me to come to their camp for
two weeks in September. Must I ask your permission, or haven’t I
yet arrived at the place where I can do as I please? Yes, I am sure
I have--I’m a Senior, you know. Having worked all summer, I feel
like taking a little healthful recreation; I want to see the
Adirondacks; I want to see Sallie; I want to see Sallie’s
brother--he’s going to teach me to canoe--and (we come to my chief
motive, which is mean) I want Master Jervie to arrive at Lock Willow
and find me not there.
I _must_ show him that he can’t dictate to me. No one can dictate to
me but you, Daddy--and you can’t always! I’m off for the woods.