I should have finished this letter long ago, but I didn't. You don't
mind, do you, Daddy, if I'm not very regular? I really do love to
write to you; it gives me such a respectable feeling of having some
family. Would you like me to tell you something? You are not the only
man to whom I write letters. There are two others! I have been
receiving beautiful long letters this winter from Master Jervie (with
typewritten envelopes so Julia won't recognize the writing). Did you
ever hear anything so shocking? And every week or so a very scrawly
epistle, usually on yellow tablet paper, arrives from Princeton. All
of which I answer with business-like promptness. So you see--I am not
so different from other girls--I get letters, too.
Did I tell you that I have been elected a member of the Senior Dramatic
Club? Very recherche organization. Only seventy-five members out of
one thousand. Do you think as a consistent Socialist that I ought to
belong?
What do you suppose is at present engaging my attention in sociology?
I am writing (figurez vous!) a paper on the Care of Dependent Children.
The Professor shuffled up his subjects and dealt them out
promiscuously, and that fell to me. C'est drole ca n'est pas?
There goes the gong for dinner. I'll post this as I pass the box.
Affectionately,
J.