The other, Daddy addressed to the sweetheart of his youth, Miss Orrecta Lippincott. He had for some time meditated opening a correspondence with the object of his early affections on the subject of matrimony, but the magnitude of the undertaking had hitherto deterred him; and, at last, he was only brought to the point by the encouragement of his young mistress.
He had resorted to his regularly organized plan of loitering in her room under pretext of mending the fire, while he marked with admiration the easy movements of her pen.
"'Tween you and me, Honey," said he, when she had finished, "I wish I could write like that. I've been wanting fur to write a letter fur sometime.
Little Wolf, without the remotest idea of what the subject of the letter in contemplation was to be, said kindly, "Well, Daddy, you may sit right down here if you like, and use my pen and ink."
Daddy shuffled along hesitatingly towards the vacant seat. "Tween you and me I'm afeared I shall make a very sorry job on it," said he, "I ain't writ none to speak on this forty year."
"Shall I write it for you Daddy?"
"O no, Honey. I'll try myself, fust anyhow."
"O well, I'll go down to the parlor and you shall have the room all to yourself."
"I couldn't stand it no-how fur ter hev the Honey laugh at the old man's foolishness," muttered Daddy to himself, as Little Wolf slipped away, glad to be relieved of all responsibility in the matter, and feeling less perhaps like laughing at the old man's eccentricities than ever before in her life; and, indeed, it was a long time afterwards before she felt like laughing at all.
In the hall leading to the parlor, she met Sorrel Top, who blushingly begged a private interview, which Little Wolf was too obliging to deny, although she panted to indulge her thoughts alone.