As my sister is writing a letter, I think I will do the same. I
have never written before. I thought I would like to have a letter
of mine in print--I mean if it is nice enough. I am ten years old.
I go to school, and a gentleman by the name of Mr. Woodruff is our
teacher. I am in geography, and we are studying map-drawing; our
lesson to-day is the construction lines of Asia. I can hardly wait
for Tuesday to come to bring us our dear YOUNG PEOPLE. This summer,
when we were at my uncle's, their birds got away. They were out in
a storm. They expected to find them dead, but they recovered them
next day, safe and sound.