about. He wanted Gypsy to see
some pictures and things. To-morrow morning real early we go to
Philadelphia. You don't know what a lovely bonnet I saw up Fifth Avenue
to-day. It was white crape, with the dearest little loves of
forget-me-nots outside and in, and then a white veil. I'm going to make
father buy me one just like it as soon as I go out of mourning.

"I expect this isn't very much like a journal, but I'm terribly sleepy,
and I guess I must go to bed."

GYPSY'S JOURNAL.

"Brevoort House, Tuesday Night.

"Mother, Mother Breynton! I never had such a good time in all my life!
Oh, I forgot to say I haven't any more idea how to write a journal than
the man in the moon. I meant to put that at the beginning so you'd know.

"Well, we came on by boat, and you've no idea how that machinery
squeaked. I laughed and laughed, and I kept waking up and laughing.

"Then--oh, did Joy tell you about my hat? I suppose you'll be sorry,
but I don't believe you can help laughing possibly. I just lost it out
of the car window, looking at a boy out in the river standing on its
head. I mean the boy was on his head, not the river, and I had to come
into Boston tied up in a handkerchief. Father hurried off to get me a
new hat, 'cause there wasn't any time for me to go with him, and what
_do_ you suppose he bought? I don't think you'd ever get over it, if you
were to see it. It was a white turban with a black edge rolled up, and a
great fringe of _blue beads_ and a _green feather_! He said he bought it
at the first milliner's he came to, and I should think he did. I guess
you'd better believe I felt nice going all the way to New York in it.
This morning I ripped off the blue fringe the very first thing, and went
into Broadway (isn't it a big street? and I never saw such tall
policemen with so many whiskers and such a lot of ladies to be helped
across) and bought some black velvet ribbon with a white edge to match
the straw; the green feather wasn't nice enough to wear. I knew I
oughtn't to have lost the other, and father paid five dollars for this
horrid old thing, so I thought I wouldn't take it to a milliner. I just
trimmed it up myself in a rosette, and it doesn't look so badly after
all. But oh, my pretty brown feather! Isn't it a shame?

"Father took us to the Aspinwall picture-gallery to-day. Joy didn't care
about it, but I liked it ever so much, only there were ever so many
Virgin Marys up in the clouds, that looked as if t