They lived in different parts of the country, but were gathered in Clayville at boarding-school.
It came to pass that on this year of which I write, they were to be widely scattered; only one was to return to the school in the fall. It was because of this fact that the thought grew up, out of which grows my story. On the last Sabbath before they separated, Mr. Shepard gave to each a tiny book of texts; one for each week, with the hint that he would like them to live by those words in the coming year.
This set them to thinking and to talking. After many plans, it was finally agreed that they should each select a month in which to write a letter that should give some account of an experience connected with one of the verses for that month. These letters were to be passed by mail from one member of the class to another until each had read them; and I, being a particular friend of several of the girls, have the privilege of reading them, and of making a copy for you, my Blossoms.
Cora Stevens had the month of November, and, without more introduction, I give you her letter:
Maplewood, Nov. 18—
You dear Girls:
I hope you every one miss me as much as I do you! Really and truly, I am dreadfully homesick for school! But this is my special letter, so I must not take time for anything else. I’m sorry I promised to write the first one, because I don’t know just how to write it, and I have such a mean, silly little story to tell, that I’m ashamed of it, anyhow.
I chose that verse about “confessing before men,” for the one to write my letter on. And I meant to go to the young people’s meeting, and to the Band, and confess Him in some way that would be nice to tell; and I didn’t do anything of the kind.
Don’t you think my story is about a cat! Who would have supposed that a cat would get mixed up with a verse like that?
We went to grandma’s, as usual, for the month of November, but things there were very unusual, for aunt Kate was married, and the house was full of company and confusion.