I have been making my own living for five years, and I do not get much time to read. I almost always read the St. Nicholas going and coming from work, as I have to take the street-car.
Seven years ago, I came from Sweden and could not speak a word of English, but now everybody takes me for an American.
There is some splendid coasting and skating in Sweden, but I do not think the young people here would enjoy going to boarding-school there; at least, not the one I went to. They are very strict. For instance, once when I did not know my lesson, I had to stay up until 12 o'clock that night and study it by moonlight, without having had a bit of supper; and the next morning, instead of my breakfast, I had to stand in the center of the dining-room and watch the others eat. I intend to write a story when I get older, and relate my experience there.
I should feel very proud if you would print this letter, as it is the first one I have written to you.
Yours truly, Jo
May Bridges: The address which you desire is "The Art Interchange, 37 West 22d street, New York City, N. Y."
McGregor, Iowa.
Dear St. Nicholas: I live about a mile from the "Great Father of Waters." I can not see the river from my home, but as I go to school in McGregor I can see it every day.