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 favour
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.