There's a lot of news, but with you due in four days, why bother to write? Just one delicious bit I am saving for the end.
So hold your breath. You are going to receive a thrill on page 4. You should hear Sadie Kate squeal! Jane is cutting her hair.
Instead of wearing it in two tight braids like this—our little colleen will in the future look like this—
"Them pigtails got on my nerves," says Jane.
You can see how much more stylish and becoming the present coiffure is. I think somebody will be wanting to adopt her. Only Sadie Kate is such an independent, manly little creature; she is eminently fitted by nature to shift for herself. I must save adopting parents for the helpless ones.
You should see our new clothes! I can't wait for this assemblage of rosebuds to burst upon you. And you should have seen those blue ginghamed eyes brighten when the new frocks were actually given out—three for each girl, all different colors, and all perfectly private personal property, with the owner's indelible name inside the collar. Mrs. Lippett's lazy system of having each child draw from the wash a promiscuous dress each week, was an insult to feminine nature.
Sadie Kate is squealing like a baby pig. I must go to see if Jane has by mistake clipped off an ear.
Jane hasn't. Sadie's excellent ears are still intact. She is just squealing on principle; the way one does in a dentist's chair, under the belief that it is going to hurt the next instant.
I really can't think of anything else to write except my news,—so here it is,—and I hope you'll like it.
I am engaged to be married.