Irvinwood, Virginia.
I am fourteen, and a fond reader of Harper's Young People. I have been papa and mamma's little housekeeper for four or five years, as mamma is often not able to leave her bed.
I never went from home to school in my life. Mamma has always taught us at home. Besides my other studies, I have map-drawing, French, Latin, and music, with an abundance of excellent reading, so I'm very busy.
Do you like to darn stockings, Postmistress? I don't enjoy it, though I have done it for four years, and mamma says I do it beautifully.
I have just read Ellen McC.'s letter, of Palmyra, Missouri, and am so sorry for her. I "always sew the paper." I hope she will be able to get out in the open air when the "leaves and flowers come." I should like to take her with me in some of my nice long walks to the tops of these high hills; to one especially, from which we can see a great deal of the country, and the mountains in the distance which bound the Shenandoah Valley—the beautiful Blue Ridge east, and the Alleghany Mountains west. Our farm is in a pretty miniature valley, with woods in front and in the rear, great oak-trees that wave and toss their huge arms in this raging March wind. Massannuten Mountain bounds our view on the north, and South Mountain on the south. About ten miles distant is the "Old Stone Church," the first Presbyterian church in the Valley of Virginia, built in colonial times, and used as a fort of defense against the Indians, and also as a "meeting-house." It is known now as Augusta Church, and is situated in a beautiful oak grove. In the suburbs of Staunton there is a large old-fashioned house that was occupied for a while by the Hessians during the Revolution. We live about three miles from Staunton.
May H. S.
Yes, dear, strange as it may seem to you, the Postmistress is fond of darning stockings, and when she is tired of other things, she finds it a restful occupation which composes her nerves. She hopes your nerves do not need to be soothed. It is pleasant for you to be your mamma's housekeeper, and she is to be congratulated on having so useful a little daughter. Your home is in a very beautiful part of our country. You must enjoy your walks and rides over the charming roads in the valley of the winding Shenandoah.
Rapidan, Minnesota.
I think "The Talking Leaves" has been so nice. So many write about pets, but the only pet I have is my baby sister Maggie. I read about the violets that the little boy in Texas sent you. Last winter I went into my grandma's garden when the snow was about a foot deep, and pushing it away, found pansies as bright as in the summer. Papa, mamma, and I got that Monogram Puzzle right. I know three real nice games for playing in the house. One is "Forty Questions and Three Guesses." One player thinks of something; for example, the player chooses the word "Steel," but does not name it aloud; then the others ask questions about it—what it looks like, what its use is, and everything they can think of. By-and-by they find that it is a mineral, and they may guess three times as to what mineral it is. Another nice game is "Geographical Spelling." The first player spells the name of a city, river, lake, or whatever the players decide on. The next one spells the name of a lake (if it has been decided to have all lakes) the first letter of which is the last letter of the name that the first player spelled, and so they go around until the lakes are exhausted, after which you can take something else. The other game is called "Stillwater." One person is blindfolded, and stands and counts twenty. By that time the rest must have taken places, and must keep perfectly still until some one is found. The one who is first found takes the place of the one who was blindfolded. Good-by.
Edith C.
We always feel a little timid about games which require the blindfolding of anybody, as accidents sometimes happen when little performers grow too merry in their excitement. We have tried the other games, and agree with Edith in recommending them.