“So you got to counterfeit your sister’s penmanship for your envelope.”
29th—I drank the last drop of my coffee.
“Oji San, when shall we go to New York?” I said, pillowing my face on my hands on the breakfast table.
“As soon as spring begins to flicker in the East, my little woman! It’s snow and snow there at present.”
“I love snow, Uncle.”
“Old gentleman can’t bear tyrannical cold, Morning Glory.”
“Don’t you notice how tired I am of Frisco? Aren’t you tired?”
“Yes—frankly!”
“Why don’t you then contrive some novel diversion to pass a month?”
“I’ve a fancy, but——”