“Yes, mother. I am always prayin’ for him. You know that.”
There was a touch of anxiety in the tones and faces of both mother and daughter as they talked of the father, for his home-coming might, perhaps, nay probably would, be attended with serious consequences to the renovated household. They soon changed the subject to one more agreeable.
“Isn’t Bobby’s letter a nice one, mother?” said Hetty, “and so well written, though the spellin’ might have been better; but then he’s had so little schoolin’.”
“It just makes my heart sing,” returned Mrs Frog. “Read it again to me, Hetty. I’ll never tire o’ hearin’ it. I only wish it was longer.”
The poor mother’s wish was not unnatural, for the letter which Bobby had written was not calculated to tax the reader’s patience, and, as Hetty hinted, there was room for improvement, not only in the spelling but in the writing. Nevertheless, it had carried great joy to the mother’s heart. We shall therefore give it verbatim et literatim.
Brankly Farm—Kanada.
“Deer Mutrer. wen i left you i promisd to rite so heer gos. this Plase is eaven upon arth. so pritty an grand. O you never did see the likes. ide park is nuffin to it, an as for Kensintn gardings—wy to kompair thems rediklis. theres sitch a nice little gal here. shes wun of deer mis mukfersons gals—wot the vestenders calls a wafe and sometimes a strai. were all very fond of er spesially tim lumpy. i shuvd im in the river wun dai. my—ow e spluterd. but e was non the wus—all the better, mister an mistress meryboi aint that a joly naim are as good as gold to us. we as prairs nite and mornin an no end o witls an as appy as kings and kueens a-sitin on there throns. give all our luv to deer father, an etty an baiby an mis mukferson an mister olland an all our deer teechers. sai we’ll never forgit wot they told us. your deer sun Bobby.”
“Isn’t it beautiful?” said Mrs Frog, wiping away a tear with the sock she was darning in preparation for her husband’s return.
“Yes, mother. Bless the people that sent ’im out to Canada,” said Hetty, “for he would never have got on here.”
There came a tap to the door as she spoke, and Mrs Twitter, entering, was received with a hearty welcome.