Daddy Long Legs

I MUST show him that he can't dictate to me. No one can dictate to me

but you, Daddy--and you can't always! I'm off for the woods.

Judy

CAMP MCBRIDE,

Dear Daddy,

Your letter didn't come in time (I am pleased to say). If you wish your

instructions to be obeyed, you must have your secretary transmit them

in less than two weeks. As you observe, I am here, and have been for

five days.

The woods are fine, and so is the camp, and so is the weather, and so

are the McBrides, and so is the whole world. I'm very happy!

There's Jimmie calling for me to come canoeing. Goodbye--sorry to have

disobeyed, but why are you so persistent about not wanting me to play a

little? When I've worked all the summer I deserve two weeks. You are

awfully dog-in-the-mangerish.

However--I love you still, Daddy, in spite of all your faults.

Judy

3rd October

Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Back at college and a Senior--also editor of the Monthly. It doesn't

seem possible, does it, that so sophisticated a person, just four years

ago, was an inmate of the John Grier Home? We do arrive fast in

America!

What do you think of this? A note from Master Jervie directed to Lock

Willow and forwarded here. He's sorry, but he finds that he can't get

up there this autumn; he has accepted an invitation to go yachting with

some friends. Hopes I've had a nice summer and am enjoying the country.

And he knew all the time that I was with the McBrides, for Julia told

him so! You men ought to leave intrigue to women; you haven't a light

enough touch.

Julia has a trunkful of the most ravishing new clothes--an evening gown

of rainbow Liberty crepe that would be fitting raiment for the angels

in Paradise. And I thought that my own clothes this year were

unprecedentedly (is there such a word?) beautiful. I copied Mrs.

Paterson's wardrobe with the aid of a cheap dressmaker, and though the

gowns didn't turn out quite twins of the originals, I was entirely

happy until Julia unpacked. But now--I live to see Paris!

Dear Daddy, aren't you glad you're not a girl? I suppose you think

that the fuss we make over clothes is too absolutely silly? It is. No

doubt about it. But it's entirely your fault.

Did you ever hear about the learned Herr Professor who regarded

unnecessary adornment with contempt and favoured sensible, utilitarian

clothes for women? His wife, who was an obliging creature, adopted

'dress reform.' And what do you think he did? He eloped with a chorus

girl.