“Father could not be coaxed to bed that night until one o’clock, although mother reminded him that he had a headache.
“‘Never mind! Daughters don’t come home every night!’
“‘But this one will be tired out!’
“‘Well, she may sleep late to-morrow morning.’
“He doesn’t know how lazy I have grown of late.
“I am surprised to find vegetation so luxuriant here. My inquiries concerning the ‘late drought’ are answered by a stare of amazement. Rain has been abundant in this region. In our garden the vegetables and grape-vines grow rank and tall. And as for flowers! There were seven bouquets in the parlor, smiling and breathing a welcome. Last night I received one per rail from Horace Lacy (bless his soul!), and Herbert to-night brought up another and a magnificent, when he came to his late supper.
“Mother had delicious peaches for supper the night I got back, but advised me to ‘eat them sparingly, at first.’ Yesterday I forgot her caution, and I think I am the better for the lapse. Peaches, watermelons, apples, sweet potatoes, etc., were liberally patronized by us all. The cholera ‘scare’ seems to be over. Doctor Haxall advised the members of our family to make no change in their diet while they continued well, and they have prospered wonderfully under his regimen....
“I wish I had time to tell you of some queer letters I found waiting for me. Father would not forward them, ‘for fear of annoying me.’ They are meant to be complimentary, one requesting ‘some particulars of your birthplace, education,’ etc. ‘Wish he may get them!’
“Now, dear, forgive this egotistical scrawl—written as fast as fingers can scratch—but just seat yourself and tell me exactly what you have been doing, saying, and thinking since I left; how our pet, Powhie (the dear old scamp!), is thriving; and the state of your mother’s health, also the news from The Jungle.