KEINETH WRITES TO HER FATHER
My dear, dear, dearest Daddy,
I have decided to write down all my thoughts and send them to you just
like the diry Tante used to keep in her brown book that had the lock on
it, then she would lose the key and ring her hands and think Dinah had
taken it, then she would find it under her burow cover where she had
hidden it all the time. I am trying to be a good soldier. It was very
hard at first, I could not keep myself from thinking all the time of
you and Tante and our happy home where it must be all dark and dusty
now like it was after we had been in the mountains with Aunt Josephine,
only worse. I do love it here, but it is not a bit like anything I have
ever seen at home or riding with Aunt Josephine. It is like a house and
like we were living right out doors, for there are so many windows and
we sleep in a big room just with a roof. I sleep right next to Peggy;
we always talk before we go to sleep, which is lots of fun, only Peggy
never listens until I finish. I say good-night to a big bright star
becose I pretend that star is shining down where you are writing
somewhere and maybe will tell you that your little girl is saying
goodnight. Way off toward the end of the sky there is a funny little
star that is very hard to see, and I say goodnight to that for Tante
becose she is so far away, too, Barbara helped me find on the map where
she had gone and Mr. Lee said poor thing. I do wish I knew if she was
unhappy.
We live downstairs in a great big room and eat there and everything, it
seems just as if flowers grew right in it, for there are boxes of them
at the windows and on the veranda, and Aunt Nellie puts big bunches of
them all around the room and Peggy has a bird that lives in a white
cage in the window and sings all the time, I guess becose the sun
shines on him. The furniture is not gold at all like Aunt Josephine's
and it is not big like we have at home and there are only one or two
rugs and the floor shines; Aunt Nellie does not fuss when we children
move things around and we have lots of fun. There is a big fireplace
made of rocks Billy says they pulled up from the beach. One time Mr.
Lee lighted some big logs in it and we all sat round and told terrible
storys of pirates and things we made up most, but Billy could think of
the worst and Mr. Lee and Aunt Nellie sat with us and told some just
like they were children, too. Sometimes Aunt Nellie seems just like a
girl, she is so jolly, she is not a bit like Aunt Josephine, though I
am sure Aunt Josephine is a very nice lady and I don't mean that I
don't love her, only Aunt Nellie kisses me as if she liked too and does
not just peck my cheek. Last week she brought me home some lovly middy
bloses like Peggy wears, and I play in bloomers all day and put on a
white skirt for supper; Mr. Lee says Peggy and I look like twins.
Auntie brought me a bathing suit, too, and a tennis raket Peggy says is
better than hers. She folded away all my hair ribbons, she said we
would not bother with them in the country. Barbara wears middy bloses,
too, but she cannot wear bloomers becose she is too old though she does
not look old or grownup. She is going away to school in the fall and
Auntie and she are getting her close ready. Alice is just a little girl
and is some fun, although she crys real often Peggy says she is
spoiled. Auntie says she will outgrow that and that Peggy cryed just as
much when she was like Alice is. I wish I could see you becose I would
like to ask you many questions about when I was a little girl. I am
sure if I had a little sister like Alice I would try and be more polite
than Peggy is, but Peggy says that families are all like that. Billy is
awful. I do not think I like him very much. He says the queerest words
and acts rude and rough. Tante would not like his manners at all. I am
ashamed becose I do not like him becose Auntie loves him dearly and she
only laughs when I think she will punish him; he does not read books
and his English is bad like Dinah's and he teses Peggy and Alice and
eats very fast and talks with food in his mouth. I shall try to like
him.
There are no sidewalks at Mr. Lee's house; they have pebble paths with
flowers here instead of sidewalks and a dirt road; it is just like the
real country and there are daisies in the fields, Peggy says they do
not call them lots. The grass is greener than in the Square at home.
All the children have gardens. Peggy says I may have half of her's and
I have a hoe and rake all my own. Billy Is going to sell his
vegertables becose he wants to buy a new sending set for his wireless.
I like the pony, though I do not like to ride it after the first time
when I fell off, though it did not hurt me at all and I was not even
frightened.
To-morrow we are going into the lake for a swim, although I will have
to learn, but Peggy says that it is easy only I must stay away from
Billy or he will duck me. I shall try and not be afraid becose I am
sure you would be ashamed of me if I acted frightened. It will be fun
to put on my new bathing suit. Auntie taught Barbara and Peggy to swim.
Peggy is going to try and win the medal this year, and Barbara says she
will becose she swims so well.
I will try and remember to write to Aunt Josephine like I promised I
would becose she is my aunt, but I will not know what to tell her
becose there is not anything in Overlook that is like what she has and
she might not like what I tell her and scold us. I am sure she would be
angry if I told her that once a week Auntie lets us girls cook the
supper and we cook just what we please and surprise them, and Barbara
puts down on a paper everything we use and how much it costs, and after
supper she gives it to Mr. Lee and we talk about it. Tomorrow is our
night. Oh I wish you were here, Daddy, it is such fun only it is very
lonely without a father. I try to do all the things that Peggy does,
though I can't do them as well, but I will tell you in this diry how I
improve as I intend to do. I have not any book to keep my thoughts in,
but I will send them to you whenever I write them. Please excuse my
spelling for I am sure no one should have to look in a dickshunary when
they are writing thoughts. Tante never did. I love you and I am sending
a million kisses with this letter.
Your little soldier daugghter, Keineth Randolph.
* * * * *
Dear Mr. President of the United States:
Please send the letter I put in the envelope to my father. He is
working for the Stars and Stripes somewhere, he said he could not tell
me where becose it was a secret. He is a soldier, but he is one of
those that do not wear any uniform. I am sure you will know where he is
becose you are the President of our Country. I would like to know, too,
very much where he is becose it is lonesome without him, for my father
is the only family I have. But my father said I must be a little
soldier. You know he just means me to do my duty and to like Overlook
and everybody and to do what they do, but it makes me feel better to
pretend that I am a soldier like he is and like all your soldiers.
Thank you if you send my letter to my father and much love.
Yours truly, Keineth Randolph.
P. S.--Aunt Josephine says postscripts are not good form, but I forgot
to say that my father's name is John Randolph, of Washington Square,
New York. This was the letter over which Keineth, curled in a chair at
the writing-desk, had labored for a long time, finishing it at last to
her satisfaction. Slipping it into an envelope with the letter she had
written to her father she sealed it hastily, anxious to have it
addressed and mailed before Peggy and Billy returned from the golf
club.
Over on the window seat Barbara sat sewing, watching Keineth with
amused eyes; for Keineth had been writing with the dictionary open at
her elbow and had stopped very often to consult it as to the spelling
of a word.
"Very different from Peggy," thought Barbara.
Aware after a little that Keineth's face wore a perplexed frown, she
said to her:
"Can I help you, Ken?"
"If you'll just tell me how to address a letter to the President,
please."
"The President! What President?"
"The President of the United States."
"Good gracious--" Barbara, dropping her sewing, stared at Keineth in
amazement. "I thought--no wonder you're using a dictionary! I am sure I
would, too! But--" Keineth broke in hastily. "You see I have been
writing a sort of diary, about everything I think and do, to send to my
father, but I don't know where he is because he has gone away on a
mission for our country and it has to be kept a secret, but I
thought--" Her voice broke a little and she held the letter tightly in
her hands.
Barbara, feeling how close the tears were to Keineth's bright eyes,
crossed quickly to her side.
"Oh, I see!" she said briskly. "What a splendid idea! Of course the
President will know where he is and will send it to him. Let me
think--we learned all that in school and had to address make-believe
letters to him--" Taking a sheet of paper she wrote in large letters:
Honorable Woodrow Wilson,
White House,
Washington, D. C.
"It looks too simple for the President--it ought to have more
flourishes to it and titles and things, shouldn't it, Ken? You copy it
and we'll walk straight down to the post office and mail it so that it
will go on to-night's train." Tears were far from Keineth's eyes as she
walked by Barbara's side down the white road between the fields of
daisies and buttercups. The little cloud of loneliness that had for a
brief time threatened her sky had disappeared and she was again a
light-hearted little girl, eagerly awaiting the happy things that each
new day at Overlook seemed to bring to her.