A LETTER FROM DADDY
"KEN--a letter!"
Billy rushed toward the garden waving a large square envelope over his
head.
Keineth and Peggy were weeding their flower bed. Keineth dropped her
hoe quickly to seize the letter.
"It's from Washington, and it's got a seal on it like the seal of the
United States!" exclaimed Billy.
"Oh, let me see!" cried Peggy.
Keineth had taken the letter. Looking from one to the other, she held
it close to her.
"I--I can't--it's from the President, I guess--" A wave of
embarrassment seized her and she stopped short, wishing that she might
run away with her treasure.
"The President--writing to you! Oh, say--" Billy snorted in derision.
Peggy, offended at Keineth's shyness, turned her back upon her. "I
don't want to see your letter, anyway," she said ungraciously.
"Oh, please--I'd love to show it, only--I promised--" Then, as Peggy
gave no sign of relenting, Keineth walked slowly toward the house with
her letter.
"I think Keineth's mean to have secrets," and Peggy dug her hoe
savagely into the ground. "She acts so mysterious about her father and
I'll bet it isn't anything at all!"
"But that letter _was_ from the President, I guess! Gee whiz, think of
getting a letter really from him! I wish I was Ken!"
"It's nothing! Anyone can be President--I mean, any man!"
"Just the same, mother told me that some day we would be very proud of
knowing Keineth's father. She wouldn't tell me any more. I'll bet it
would be awful interesting to know him! There's something certainly
queer about how no one knows where he is! I guess I'll ask Ken to tell
me just a little bit. I can keep a secret."
"Well, you can know her old secret for all I care," and Peggy started
for the barn. Billy did not follow. He had thought of a plan. He would
challenge Ken to a game of tennis. And he would let her beat him. Then
he'd ask her very casually about her father and promise, on his scout's
honor, not to tell a soul! The plan seemed good. He'd wait for her to
come down.
In her room Keineth had opened the large white envelope. From inside
she drew a sheet of paper upon which were written a few lines, and with
it a blue envelope of very thin paper, addressed in her father's
familiar handwriting. With a little cry she caught it up and kissed it
again and again. Before she broke its seal she read what was written on
the sheet which had enclosed it.
The few lines were signed "Faithfully, Woodrow Wilson." They began, "My
dear little soldier girl," and they told her that it was with great
pleasure he had forwarded her letter to her father and now returned to
her its answer. He called it an honor to serve them both and expressed
the hope that some day he might make her acquaintance and tell her how
deeply he admired and respected her father.
Keineth merely glanced at the lines. What mattered it to her that they
had been written by the President of the United States! Did she not
hold tightly in her fingers a letter from her Daddy?
"My precious child," it began. Keineth had suddenly to brush her eyes
in order to see the letters. "Your letter found me at one of my many
stopping places. It brought to me a breath of home. I shut myself in my
room and read and reread it, and it seemed to bring back the old room
and the chair that could always hold us both. I could hear your voice,
too. I miss you terribly, little girl, but I thank God daily that you
are well and happy and with good friends.
"I have travelled through many lands of which I will have much to tell
you. I have been in the Far East--poor Tante would have wept with joy
over the beauty of the Flowery Kingdom. I have bowed before enough
emperors and kings to make my poor back ache. Do you remember how you
used to rub the kinks out of it? I have spent hours and hours with the
great men of the world. I have seen wonderful beauty and glorious
sunshine. (How I'd like to ship some of it to old New York.) And I have
seen ugly things, too. We shall have great times when we are together
again, childy, telling one another the stories of these days we have
been parted. You shall tell me something first and then I will tell
you. It will take us hours and days and weeks.
"Now I am going in my wanderings to other lands that are black with the
horror of war. I shall have to witness the suffering it brings to the
homes and I will be more glad than I can tell that my baby is far from
its pain.
"I have learned in these wanderings of mine that it is in the children
this old world must place its trust. That if they want a better
government they must give to the little ones all that is pure and clean
and honest and good and see to it that they are happy. I feel like
shouting it from the housetops--'Make them happy!' It doesn't take
much.
"I feel your big, wondering eyes on mine--you do not understand! Ah,
well, girlie, all I mean is--romp and play--build up a strong little
body for that heart of yours--see things that are clean and good, and
whatever the game is--play square!
"We cannot be grateful enough to the dear Lees for all they are doing
for us. Try and return their kindness with loyalty. I will write later
to Mrs. Lee in regard to the plans for the fall. Do whatever she thinks
best. You will stay with them until I return. Just when that will be I
cannot tell now, but you must be brave. Your courage helps me, too, my
dear.
"Sometimes, when my day's work is done and I can put it from my mind, I
close my eyes and dream--dream of the little home we will build when I
return: build--not in the old Square, that is gone except to
memory--but in some sunny, open spot where we can live and work
together and lead useful lives. It is a beautiful castle as I see it in
my dreams--and beautiful with love.
"I will send this letter with other papers to Washington and they will
forward it to you.
"Good-by, little soldier--I salute you, my General.
"God keep you for
"DADDY."
The words rang through Keineth's heart like a song. She longed to pour
out her joy in music, but Billy's voice came to her from below.
"Ken, Ken."
"Yes, Billy." "Come on, I'll play tennis with you! Bet you can beat me,
too!"
Keineth suddenly remembered Peggy's and Billy's rudeness. Perhaps Billy
was trying to make amends. She really wanted to be alone with her
letter a little longer, but if Billy wanted her to play! She felt
proud, too, that he had asked her.
Billy found less difficulty than he had anticipated in letting Keineth
win the set. In fact, deep in his heart, he was not sure he had "let"
her. For Keineth, fired with the joy within her, played brilliantly,
flying over the court like a winged creature, returning Billy's serves
with a surprising quickness and strength that completely broke down his
boyish confidence in himself.
"Thanks awfully--that _was_ fun," Keineth said as they sank down under
a tree for a moment's rest.
Though his plan had worked very well so far, Billy now felt at a loss
to know how he ought to proceed. So, accepting her thanks with a brief
nod, he bolted straight to the point.
"Say, Ken, if you'll tell me about your father I promise on my scout's
honor not to tell a soul! And you ought to tell me anyway, for didn't
my dog save your life, and didn't I give you first aid or you might've
died!"
"Oh, Billy!" Keineth cried, then stopped short. Her heart warmed to
Billy--they seemed almost like pals now! He had preferred playing
tennis with her than going off somewhere with the boys. And she did
want more than anything else right then to talk about her daddy; to
tell how great he was and how he was visiting courts of Eastern lands.
And she wanted to show Billy the letter from the President, it was in
her pocket. And she knew if Billy said he'd never tell that he would
not.
But a soldier never swerves from duty and had not her father called her
his "General"?
"I--I can't, Billy," she finished.
There was something so final in her voice and in the set of her lips
that Billy, red with rage, rose quickly to his feet.
"I'll bet you haven't got any secret and you're just making up to be
smart and I'll get even with you, baby! And you didn't beat me playing
tennis, for I let you, anyway! You wait--" and, vengefully, Billy
strode away, leaving an unhappy little girl sitting alone under the
tree. Peggy met Billy on the road. Peggy was in search of Keineth. Her
nature was too happy to long nurse a grievance. She didn't care if
Keineth did have a secret! And she had wonderful news, too!
But Billy's morose bearing stirred her curiosity.
"Did she tell you, Billy?" she asked.
"I'll bet she hasn't got any secret that's worth knowing! And she
needn't say she beat me at tennis, either."
"Oh, Billy Lee, you let her beat so's she'd tell you! I'm just _glad_
she didn't! I guess girls never tell anything they've promised not
to--even if they are girls!"
In great scorn she ran from the disconsolate Billy. She had spied
Keineth alone under the tree.
"Ken--Ken! Great news!" Peggy rushed toward her. "We are going camping
with Ricky--you and me--next week! Hurray!"