a a few days ago. (Who
says now that teas are a silly waste of time?) She asked me about my
"precious little waifs," and said I was doing a noble work and would be
rewarded. I saw buns in her eye, and sat down and talked to her for half
an hour.

Now I shall go and thank her in person, and tell her with a great deal
of affecting detail how much those buns were appreciated by my precious
little waifs--omitting the account of how precious little Punch threw
his bun at Miss Snaith and plastered her neatly in the eye. I think,
with encouragement, Mrs. De Peyster Lambert can be developed into a
cheerful giver.

Oh, I'm growing into the most shocking beggar! My family don't dare
to visit me, because I demand BAKSHISH in such a brazen manner. I
threatened to remove father from my calling list unless he shipped
immediately sixty-five pairs of overalls for my prospective gardeners.
A notice from the freight office this morning asks me to remove two
packing cases consigned to them by the J. L. McBride Co. of Worcester;
so I take it that father desires to continue my acquaintance. Jimmie
hasn't sent us anything yet, and he's getting a huge salary. I write him
frequently a pathetic list of our needs.

But Gordon Hallock has learned the way to a mother's heart. I was so
pleasant about the peanuts and menagerie that now he sends a present of
some sort every few days, and I spend my entire time composing thank-you
letters that aren't exact copies of the ones I've sent before. Last week
we received a dozen big scarlet balls. The nursery is FULL of them;
you kick them before you as you walk. And yesterday there arrived a
half-bushel of frogs and ducks and fishes to float in the bathtubs.

Send, O best of trustees, the tubs in which to float them!

I am, as usual,

S. McBRIDE.

Tuesday. My dear Judy:

Spring must be lurking about somewhere; the birds are arriving from the
South. Isn't it time you followed their example?

Society note from the BIRD O' PASSAGE NEWS:

"Mr. and Mrs. First Robin have returned from a trip to Florida. It is
hoped that Mr. and Mrs. Jervis Pendleton will arrive shortly."

Even up here in our dilatory Dutchess County the breeze smells green.
It makes you want to be out and away, roaming the hills, or else down on
your knees grubbing in the dirt. Isn't it funny what farmering instincts
the budding spring awakens in even the most urban souls?

I have spent the morning making plans for little private