“I think it would be doing good to write to her,” said the teacher. “It will please her very much to have a letter from you.”
“Then I will,” said Erskine. “On the whole, I should like to write to her very much.”
So Erskine wrote the letter, and, when it had been corrected and copied, it was sent.
This is the letter. It gives an account of a petition offered by a dog to his master, begging to be allowed to accompany the boys of the school on an excursion:
Erskine’s letter.
August 2, 1853.
Dear Aunt,—I hope you have been well since I have heard from you.
We took an excursion up to Orange Pond, and stayed all day. In the morning it was very misty, but in about an hour it cleared up, and the sun came out. Charles and Stephen went over to Mr. Wingate’s to get a stage, and a lumber-wagon, and a carriage. There were two horses in the stage, and an old gray one in the lumber-wagon. Wright and I went down to get William Harmer, a new scholar, to come up here before we started. At last we all were ready, Crusoe and all. The teacher bought a little dog in the vacation, and named him Crusoe. One of the boys wrote a letter, and tied it about Crusoe’s neck, and this was it:
The dog’s petition.