ars.

Also let me assure you that the politician is not dangerously imminent;
and that, anyway, he is a very desirable politician, even though
his views on tariff and single tax and trade-unionism do not exactly
coincide with Jervis's.

Your desire to dedicate my life to the public good is very sweet, but
you should look at it from the asylum's point of view.

Have you no pity for those poor defenseless little orphan children?

I have, if you haven't, and I respectfully decline the position which
you offer.

I shall be charmed, however, to accept your invitation to visit you in
New York, though I must acknowledge that I am not very excited over the
list of gaieties you have planned.

Please substitute for the New York Orphanage and the Foundling Hospital
a few theaters and operas and a dinner or so. I have two new evening
gowns and a blue and gold coat with a white fur collar.

I dash to pack them; so telegraph fast if you don't wish to see me for
myself alone, but only as a successor to Mrs. Lippett. Yours as ever,

Entirely frivolous,

And intending to remain so,

SALLIE McBRIDE.

P.S. Your invitation is especially seasonable. A charming young
politician named Gordon Hallock is to be in New York next week. I am
sure you will like him when you know him better. P.S. 2. Sallie taking
her afternoon walk as Judy would like to see her:

I ask you again, have you both gone mad?

THE JOHN GRIER HOME,

February 15.

Dear Judy:

We arrived in a snowstorm at eleven last night, Singapore and Jane and
I. It does not appear to be customary for superintendents of orphan
asylums to bring with them personal maids and Chinese chows. The night
watchman and housekeeper, who had waited up to receive me, were thrown
into an awful flutter. They had never seen the like of Sing, and thought
that I was introducing a wolf into the fold. I reassured them as to his
dogginess, and the watchman, after studying his black tongue, ventured a
witticism. He wanted to know if I fed him on huckleberry pie.

It was difficult to find accommodations for my family, Poor Sing was
dragged off whimpering to a strange woodshed, and given a piece of
burlap. Jane did not fare much better. There was not an extra bed in
the building, barring a five-foot crib in the hospital room. She, as you
know, approaches six. We tucked her in, and she spent the night folded
up like a jackknife. She has limped about today, looking like a decrepit
lette