THE LETTER.
"Whatever shall we say?"
They had been trying for the last three hours, and were getting quite
out of patience.
"Go on, Mollie, have another try."
"'My dear Uncle'--no, we can't put 'my,' because he's 'ours,'" said
Mollie, crossing out the "my." "Just--'Dear Uncle Henry.'"
"He mightn't like 'Henry,'" suggested Eva.
"No, he might rather be called Harry," said Eileen. "Let's leave his
name out."
"All right. Just 'Dear Uncle'----"
"He mightn't know it's for him if you just put that," cried Doris, and
then they all laughed.
"All right, just 'Dear Uncle,--You will no doubt be astonished to hear
from us'----"
"No, from the five undersigned," put in Eileen. "It's more
business-like."
"All right--'from the five undersigned. No doubt you do not know that
you have five little nieces away up in the bush in New South Wales----'"
"Australia," put in Eva.
"We don't want Australia," cried Eileen in disgust. "Yes, 'New South
Wales.' Go on, Mollie."
"Let me see--'and we would very much like to meet you. We have no idea
where you are now, but hope this letter will reach you.'"
"Yes, that's right!"
"'We live up here in the bush, and have a very quiet time'--quiet time,"
she repeated, tapping her pencil.
"'And we're poor,'" put in Doris, "'and would like some money.'"
"No, we can't put it that way."
"Well, hurry up, then, and ask for the money."
"We're not asking for money," said Mollie, severely. "We're going to ask
him to come and see us, and then----"
"And then we're hoping he'll give us some," cried Eva.
"No!" cried Eileen, excitedly. "We'll trust to his generosity----"
"Oh, yes! put in 'generosity'--it sounds so well," said Eva.
"'For some years Father has had very hard times,'" went on Mollie, "'and
we're all struggling'----"
"'But things get no better,'" blurted out Eileen, "'worse--if
anything.'"
"'All struggling,'" went on Mollie, "'but things are still very black.'"
"'And there don't seem a chance of a silver lining,'" chimed in Eva.
"Silver lining, be hanged!" said Eileen. "He's the only hope we've got
of a silver lining."
"'And as we've heard, Uncle, that you are very, very wealthy'----perhaps
I ought to say 'we've heard by accident,'" said Mollie, perplexedly;
"you see, he might think Father and Mother are always talking about him
if I don't."
"Yes, 'by accident,'" agreed Eileen.
"'By accident, that you are very wealthy; we've been hoping to meet you
and tell you all our troubles.'"
"Don't forget about the foal and the fire and----"
"Oh, shut up, Doris!" snapped Eileen.
"'And perhaps you can set matters right for us. We don't want to beg,
Uncle. We only ask you if you could give us a loan.' We'll have to
mention money, girls," said Mollie; "we can't wait till he
comes----'perhaps you could give us a loan by helping Father and Mother
(who work so hard), and when we grow up we'll pay back every penny of
it. We're all strong and healthy and willing to work.'"
"'And we're as clever as most people,'" put in Eileen.
"Yes, 'and we can assure you that we would be quite clever if we got a
chance, and would be all willing to take up something to make money to
pay you back, if you would only let us have a loan soon.'"
"Oh, Mollie, you are clever," said Eva, "to write all that!"
"Yes, I'm pretty good at letters," answered Mollie. "'If possible, we
would like you to come and see us.'"
"Tell him he can have the verandah room," said Doris.
"'And then you could decide for yourself if you would care to help us.'"
"Don't forget to tell him not to tell Father and Mother that we wrote,"
warned Eva.
"Oh, no!" they all cried.
"'And now, Uncle, we have a big favour to ask of you. _Don't, please,
let Mother and Father know we wrote to you, on any account_, because
they would be fearfully annoyed. It's because they're working so hard
and try to do their best, and are so cheerful about all the bad times,
that we're writing to you.'"
"I think we ought to write another one all over again, and tell him
right at the beginning it's a secret," said Eileen.
"Oh! do you think so?" asked Mollie, wearily. "I wonder ought we? I'm
just about sick of it. It's about the hardest thing I ever tried."
"Oh, it's sickening!" declared Doris.
"Ugh!" grunted Baby.
"I've scribbled about a hundred already, and we're just as far off as
when we started," said Mollie. "I wish he'd ride up this very instant
and save us all this trouble." And she looked away and sighed. "Oh,
well! I suppose we'll only have to do it. We'll have to stick at it till
we do get something to suit."
"Yes, we'll have to have it ready for to-morrow's mail," said Eileen.
"Oh, yes, it has to be done! Let's have another go."
They had a great many "goes" before they managed one to satisfy them,
but at last they all gathered round while Mollie read the last one out
aloud, and they declared that would have to do.
Dear Uncle,--
No doubt you will be surprised to hear from us. We are your five
little Bush Nieces. We live away up in the North-West of New South
Wales, on a selection, in a wooden house on the bank of the Gillongi
Creek, and our father is your brother Robert.
"Won't that s'prise him?" chuckled Doris, clasping her fat hands.
Eileen gave her a withering look, to command silence.
Of course we are all strangers to you, but we would like very much to
know you. We don't know where you are now, but hope this letter will
reach you, and we would like you to come and see us as soon as
possible.
The five of us now have a very big secret to tell you, and we hope for
our sakes you will keep it. Father and Mother don't know we are
writing to you, and we never want them to know, because they would be
very, very much annoyed and angry, and might think that you will think
that we are beggars. But we would not think of begging; only as we are
very poor, and Mother and Father are always struggling and working
hard, we are hoping that you might lend us some money, and we'll pay
back every penny of it when we grow up. We are all willing to work to
make money, and if we get the chance we are sure we would be quite
clever. But we would like to see you and talk to you, and as we heard
by accident that you are very rich and travel a great deal, we hope
that you will come up here very soon. Our house is only a wooden
place, but it is very clean, and we'll all do our very best to make
you happy; but we do hope that you will keep our secret.
We have a very lonely life up here. I suppose you don't know what
loneliness is, as you are so rich and travel so much; but if you woke
up day after day and saw only the hot sunshine and a few pet lambs and
people working hard, and no one new and fresh to talk to, and the
night comes on, and there's another day gone, and nothing done.
If you think you would care to meet us when you read this letter, we
would like you to write to us to the undermentioned address, and we'll
ask the mailman to give it into our hands, as we would not like to
hurt Mother's and Father's feelings by letting them know we wrote; and
we are sure you are clever enough to fix up a way of coming here
without letting them know we asked you. If we can only talk to you, we
are sure we can make you understand.
If you think you wouldn't like to meet us, please burn this letter,
and oblige,
Yours very faithfully,
Mollie Hudson, aged 14 years, blue eyes and goldeny hair.
Eileen Hudson, aged 12 years, dark eyes and hair.
Eva Hudson, aged 9 years, grey eyes and dark hair.
Doris Hudson, aged 5 years, blue eyes and fair hair.
Baby Hudson (X, her mark), aged 2 years, blue eyes and fair hair.
PS.--We give you a description of ourselves, as it might interest you.
P.S.--PLEASE KEEP OUR SECRET.
M.H.
E.H.
E.H.
D.H.
B.H. (X)
Address: Misses Hudson,
"Gillong,"
Bragan Junction,
N.W. Line,
N.S.W.
P.S.--The above address will always find us.
M., E., E., D., and B. Hudson.
To H. Hudson, Esq.,
C/o the Firm of
Langdon & Ross,
Collins Street,
Melbourne,
Victoria.
Private,
Confidential
&
Urgent.
Important.
"That ought to be plain enough," said Mollie, anxiously. "He ought to
understand just what we mean."
"Understand? Of course he'll understand! He ought to go and bury himself
if he doesn't," declared Eileen, vehemently. "Why, a man with one eye
and a wooden leg would understand that. I'm glad it's over," she went
on; "it's the hardest bit of work I ever tackled!"