Daddy Long Legs

Very hard to get any news into this letter! Judy is becoming so

philosophical of late, that she wishes to discourse largely of the

world in general, instead of descending to the trivial details of daily

life. But if you MUST have news, here it is: Our nine young pigs waded across the brook and ran away last Tuesday,

and only eight came back. We don't want to accuse anyone unjustly, but

we suspect that Widow Dowd has one more than she ought to have.

Mr. Weaver has painted his barn and his two silos a bright pumpkin

yellow--a very ugly colour, but he says it will wear.

The Brewers have company this week; Mrs. Brewer's sister and two nieces

from Ohio.

One of our Rhode Island Reds only brought off three chicks out of

fifteen eggs. We can't imagine what was the trouble. Rhode island

Reds, in my opinion, are a very inferior breed. I prefer Buff

Orpingtons.

The new clerk in the post office at Bonnyrigg Four Corners drank every

drop of Jamaica ginger they had in stock--seven dollars' worth--before

he was discovered.

Old Ira Hatch has rheumatism and can't work any more; he never saved

his money when he was earning good wages, so now he has to live on the

town.

There's to be an ice-cream social at the schoolhouse next Saturday

evening. Come and bring your families.

I have a new hat that I bought for twenty-five cents at the post

office. This is my latest portrait, on my way to rake the hay.

It's getting too dark to see; anyway, the news is all used up.

Good night,

Judy

Friday

Good morning! Here is some news! What do you think? You'd never,

never, never guess who's coming to Lock Willow. A letter to Mrs.

Semple from Mr. Pendleton. He's motoring through the Berkshires, and

is tired and wants to rest on a nice quiet farm--if he climbs out at

her doorstep some night will she have a room ready for him? Maybe

he'll stay one week, or maybe two, or maybe three; he'll see how

restful it is when he gets here.

Such a flutter as we are in! The whole house is being cleaned and all

the curtains washed. I am driving to the Corners this morning to get

some new oilcloth for the entry, and two cans of brown floor paint for

the hall and back stairs. Mrs. Dowd is engaged to come tomorrow to

wash the windows (in the exigency of the moment, we waive our

suspicions in regard to the piglet). You might think, from this account

of our activities, that the house was not already immaculate; but I

assure you it was! Whatever Mrs. Semple's limitations, she is a

HOUSEKEEPER.