June 9th.
Mr. John Smith.
Sir: Yours of the 7th inst. at hand. In compliance with the instructions received through your secretary, I leave on Friday next to spend the summer at Lock Willow Farm.
I hope always to remain,
(Miss) Jerusha Abbott.
Lock Willow Farm,
August Third.
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
It has been nearly two months since I wrote, which was n’t nice of me, I know, but I have n’t loved you much this summer—you see I ’m being frank!
You can’t imagine how disappointed I was at having to give up the McBride’s camp. Of course I know that you ’re my guardian, and that I have to regard your wishes in all matters, but I could n’t see any reason. It was so distinctly the best thing that could have happened to me. If I had been Daddy, and you had been Judy, I should have said, “Bless you, my child, run along and have a good time; see lots of new people and learn lots of new things; live out of doors, and get strong and well and rested for a year of hard work.”