J. A.
Next morning.
I just read this over before sealing it. I don’t know why I cast such a misty atmosphere over life. I hasten to assure you that I am young and happy and exuberant; and I trust you are the same. Youth has nothing to do with birthdays, only with alivedness of spirit, so even if your hair is gray, Daddy, you can still be a boy.
Affectionately,
Judy.
Jan. 12th.
Dear Mr. Philanthropist,
Your check for my family came yesterday. Thank you so much! I cut gymnasium and took it down to them right after luncheon, and you should have seen the girl’s face! She was so surprised and happy and relieved that she looked almost young; and she ’s only twenty-four. Is n’t it pitiful?
Anyway, she feels now as though all the good things were coming together. She has steady work ahead for two months—some one ’s getting married, and there ’s a trousseau to make.
“Thank the good Lord!” cried the mother, when she grasped the fact that that small piece of paper was one hundred dollars.