Weymouth, Massachusetts.
I have asked my papa to write for me and tell you how much even a blind boy may enjoy Young People. Mamma, papa, and Arthur read me the stories over and over again. I should like to know the Moral Pirates, but papa says my brother is one, and that ought to be enough.
I am almost seven. I used to run all about, chase the butterflies and everything else that came in my way. But last year I was awful sick, and though I run now as well as I can, my little brother can run so much faster. I can see the light of the fire in papa's fire-place, and the sunlight coming in at the windows, but the things I used to see are so dark, and I can only feel. I have not found a word of fault because I can not do like other boys.
Everett C. B.
Troy, Tennessee.
My brother Clarence takes Young People. I enjoy it almost as much as he does, and he says he couldn't do without it.
I have a doll with great blue eyes and light hair. Her name is Dora. She is thirty inches high. Mamma dressed her in my own lemon-colored lawn and blue sash. When papa gave Dora to me I stood her by the side of my little sister Hallie, fourteen months old, and they were the same height.
My home is near Reelfoot Lake, which is about twenty miles long and seven wide. Papa says it was sunk there about 1811.