Dear Enemy

I had hoped those two intelligent spinsters would see their way to

keeping him forever, but they want to travel, and they feel he's too

consuming of their liberty. I inclose a sketch in colored chalk of your

steamer, which he has just completed. There is some doubt as to the

direction in which it is going; it looks as though it might progress

backward and end in Brooklyn. Owing to the loss of my blue pencil, our

flag has had to adopt the Italian colors.

The three figures on the bridge are you and Jervis and the baby. I am

pained to note that you carry your daughter by the back of her neck, as

if she were a kitten. That is not the way we handle babies in the J. G.

H. nursery. Please also note that the artist has given Jervis his full

due in the matter of legs. When I asked Punch what had become of the

captain, he said that the captain was inside, putting coal on the fire.

Punch was terribly impressed, as well he might be, when he heard that

your steamer burned three hundred wagonloads a day, and he naturally

supposed that all hands had been piped to the stokehole.

BOW! WOW!

That's a bark from Sing. I told him I was writing to you, and he

responded instantly.

We both send love.

Yours,

SALLIE.

THE JOHN GRIER HOME,

Saturday.

Dear Enemy:

You were so terribly gruff last night when I tried to thank you for

giving my boys such a wonderful day that I didn't have a chance to

express half of the appreciation I felt.

What on earth is the matter with you, Sandy? You used to be a tolerably

nice man--in spots, but these last three or four months you have only

been nice to other people, never to me. We have had from the first a

long series of misunderstandings and foolish contretemps, but after each

one we seemed to reach a solider basis of understanding, until I had

thought our friendship was on a pretty firm foundation, capable of

withstanding any reasonable shock.

And then came that unfortunate evening last June when you overheard some

foolish impolitenesses, which I did not in the slightest degree mean;

and from then on you faded into the distance. Really, I have felt

terribly bad about it, and have wanted to apologize, but your manner

has not been inviting of confidence. It isn't that I have any excuse or

explanation to offer; I haven't. You know how foolish and silly I am on

occasions, but you will just have to realize that though I'm flippant

and foolish and trivial on top, I am pretty solid inside; and you've got

to forgive the silly part. The Pendletons knew that long ago, or they

wouldn't have sent me up here. I have tried hard to pull off an honest

job, partly because I wanted to justify their judgment, partly because

I was really interested in giving the poor little kiddies their share of

happiness, but mostly, I actually believe, because I wanted to show

you that your first derogatory opinion of me was ill founded. Won't you

please expunge that unfortunate fifteen minutes at the porte-cochere

last June, and remember instead the fifteen hours I spent reading the

Kallikak Family?