April 1.
Dear Judy:
I have placed out Isador Gutschneider. His new mother is a Swedish
woman, fat and smiling, with blue eyes and yellow hair. She chose him
out of the whole nurseryful of children because he was the brunettest
baby there. She has always loved brunettes, but in her most ambitious
dreams has never hoped to have one of her own. His name is going to be
changed to Oscar Carlson, after his new dead uncle.
My first trustees' meeting is to occur next Wednesday. I confess that I
am not looking forward to it with impatience--especially as an inaugural
address by me will be its chief feature. I wish our president were here
to back me up! But at least I am sure of one thing. I am never going to
adopt the Uriah Heepish attitude toward trustees that characterized Mrs.
Lippett's manners. I shall treat "first Wednesdays" as a pleasant social
diversion, my day at home, when the friends of the asylum gather for
discussion and relaxation; and I shall endeavor not to let our pleasures
discommode the orphans. You see how I have taken to heart the unhappy
experiences of that little Jerusha.
Your last letter has arrived, and no suggestion in it of traveling
North. Isn't it about time that you were turning your faces back toward
Fifth Avenue? Hame is hame, be 't ever sae hamely. Don't you marvel at
the Scotch that flows so readily from my pen? Since being acquent' wi'
Sandy, I hae gathered a muckle new vocabulary. The dinner gong! I leave
you, to devote a revivifying half-hour to mutton hash. We eat to live in
the John Grier Home.