Daddy Long Legs

On the Eve

Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

You should see the way this college is studying! We've forgotten we

ever had a vacation. Fifty-seven irregular verbs have I introduced to

my brain in the past four days--I'm only hoping they'll stay till after

examinations.

Some of the girls sell their text-books when they're through with them,

but I intend to keep mine. Then after I've graduated I shall have my

whole education in a row in the bookcase, and when I need to use any

detail, I can turn to it without the slightest hesitation. So much

easier and more accurate than trying to keep it in your head.

Julia Pendleton dropped in this evening to pay a social call, and

stayed a solid hour. She got started on the subject of family, and I

COULDN'T switch her off. She wanted to know what my mother's maiden

name was--did you ever hear such an impertinent question to ask of a

person from a foundling asylum? I didn't have the courage to say I

didn't know, so I just miserably plumped on the first name I could

think of, and that was Montgomery. Then she wanted to know whether I

belonged to the Massachusetts Montgomerys or the Virginia Montgomerys.

Her mother was a Rutherford. The family came over in the ark, and were

connected by marriage with Henry the VIII. On her father's side they

date back further than Adam. On the topmost branches of her family

tree there's a superior breed of monkeys with very fine silky hair and

extra long tails.

I meant to write you a nice, cheerful, entertaining letter tonight, but

I'm too sleepy--and scared. The Freshman's lot is not a happy one.

Yours, about to be examined,

Judy Abbott

Sunday

Dearest Daddy-Long-Legs,

I have some awful, awful, awful news to tell you, but I won't begin

with it; I'll try to get you in a good humour first.

Jerusha Abbott has commenced to be an author. A poem entitled, 'From

my Tower', appears in the February Monthly--on the first page, which is

a very great honour for a Freshman. My English instructor stopped me

on the way out from chapel last night, and said it was a charming piece

of work except for the sixth line, which had too many feet. I will

send you a copy in case you care to read it.

Let me see if I can't think of something else pleasant-- Oh, yes! I'm

learning to skate, and can glide about quite respectably all by myself.

Also I've learned how to slide down a rope from the roof of the

gymnasium, and I can vault a bar three feet and six inches high--I hope

shortly to pull up to four feet.