"Well, you see, if I had a kindergarten, I couldn't tuck the children in at night. That's the very nicest part of children—tucking them in. But the husband wouldn't need to be much trouble. He could stay away all day like Uncle Charles does. What does Uncle Charles do? When he isn't at the Club, I mean?"
"He is in a bank from nine until three every day."
"Only that little bit? I guess I'd rather have an iceman. He gets up very early and works all day, doesn't he? Anyway, Miss Wardell said I didn't need to worry about picking him out until I was twenty. Sometimes I wish Aunt Agatha liked kittens and puppies, don't you? They're so useful while you're waiting for your children."
CHAPTER XIII
BANISHED FRIENDS
"I have a letter from Old Captain," confided Jeanne, that same afternoon. "Don't you want to read it? You wouldn't laugh at it, would you?"
"Certainly I wouldn't laugh," assured her grandfather, taking the letter.
DEAR AND HONORED MISS [wrote Old Captain, in a large, sprawling hand]:
This is to let you know that it is a warm day for April. The lake is still froze. It seems as if the sun shines more when you are here. Sammy lost his freckles for a while, but they come back again last week. Michael and Annie were here yestiddy. He says your father is teaching him to read. As I am a better hand with a boat-hook than I am with this here pen, I will close, so no more at present.