Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
Your secretary man has just written to me saying that Mr. Smith prefers
that I should not accept Mrs. McBride's invitation, but should return
to Lock Willow the same as last summer.
Why, why, WHY, Daddy?
You don't understand about it. Mrs. McBride does want me, really and
truly. I'm not the least bit of trouble in the house. I'm a help.
They don't take up many servants, and Sallie an I can do lots of useful
things. It's a fine chance for me to learn housekeeping. Every woman
ought to understand it, and I only know asylum-keeping.
There aren't any girls our age at the camp, and Mrs. McBride wants me
for a companion for Sallie. We are planning to do a lot of reading
together. We are going to read all of the books for next year's
English and sociology. The Professor said it would be a great help if
we would get our reading finished in the summer; and it's so much
easier to remember it if we read together and talk it over.
Just to live in the same house with Sallie's mother is an education.
She's the most interesting, entertaining, companionable, charming woman
in the world; she knows everything. Think how many summers I've spent
with Mrs. Lippett and how I'll appreciate the contrast. You needn't be
afraid that I'll be crowding them, for their house is made of rubber.
When they have a lot of company, they just sprinkle tents about in the
woods and turn the boys outside. It's going to be such a nice, healthy
summer exercising out of doors every minute. Jimmie McBride is going
to teach me how to ride horseback and paddle a canoe, and how to shoot
and--oh, lots of things I ought to know. It's the kind of nice, jolly,
care-free time that I've never had; and I think every girl deserves it
once in her life. Of course I'll do exactly as you say, but please,
PLEASE let me go, Daddy. I've never wanted anything so much.
This isn't Jerusha Abbott, the future great author, writing to you.
It's just Judy--a girl.