a little thing, but she knows all
about her. The Judge has a beautiful miniature of this 'other
Molly' his wife, and takes it with him wherever he goes, even into
that camp, where we're to be let to go, maybe, for a salmon dinner
that the 'Boys' catch themselves.

"There are lots of books in this old house and a piano. Each
generation has added to the library and Mrs. Grimm says that in the
winter she and her husband read 'most all the time. Christmases, no
matter how deep the snow, all their children come home and then the
rooms are opened and warmed and they have such fun. Oh! it must be
grand to belong to a big family and know it's all your own! They
burn great logs of wood and even now we have a fire on the
living-room hearth all the time. One of the young Indian boys who
works here has nothing else for his chores except to keep the
wood-boxes filled and the fires fresh. He's rather a nice Indian
boy but he's full of capers. Molly is so lonesome without Monty and
Melvin to play with she makes plays with Anton. I don't think Mrs.
Grimm likes it and I'm sure Aunt Lucretia doesn't, for I heard her
tell Molly so. But nobody can keep Molly Breckenridge still. She
doesn't care to read much and she hates practicing, and she cries
every time she has to sew a seam, though Mrs. Hungerford makes her
do that 'for discipline.' I don't know what would become of the
darling if it wasn't for Anton. She likes me, course, but I can't
climb trees after cherries, or wade in ponds after water-lilies,
and though I like to ride horseback with her I'm afraid to go
beyond bounds where we're told to stay. Molly isn't afraid.

"Please give my love to Aunt Chloe and write soon to your loving

"DOROTHY."

Having finished this letter, longer than common, Dorothy wandered out of
doors seeking her mate. She was nowhere in sight, but the man who rode
into town so many miles away, to fetch and carry the mail and to bring
supplies of such things as the farm did not produce, was just driving up
the road and playfully shook his mail-pouch at her. She sped to meet
him, was helped into his wagon and received the pouch in her arms. She
and Molly were always eager to "go meet the mail," which was brought to
them only every other day, and whichever was first and obtained it was
given the key to the pouch and the privilege of distributing its
contents. This privilege would be Dorothy's to-day; and she skipped into
the living-ro