does not let politeness interfere with truth!

There is no doubt about it, Gordon is the most presentable man that ever
breathed. He is so good looking and easy and gracious and witty, and his
manners are so impeccable--Oh, he would make a wonderfully decorative
husband! But after all, I suppose you do live with a husband. You don't
just show him off at dinners and teas.

He was exceptionally nice tonight. Betsy and Mrs. Livermore both fell in
love with him--and I just a trifle. He entertained us with a speech in
his best public manner, apropos of Java's welfare. We have been having
a dreadful time finding a sleeping place for that monkey, and Gordon
proved with incontestable logic that, since he was presented to us by
Jimmie, and Jimmie is Percy's friend, he should sleep with Percy. Gordon
is a natural talker, and an audience affects him like champagne. He can
argue with us much emotional earnestness on the subject of a monkey as
on the greatest hero that ever bled for his country.

I felt tears coming to my eyes when he described Java's loneliness as he
watched out the night in our furnace cellar, and pictured his brothers
at play in the far-off tropical jungle.

A man who can talk like that has a future before him. I haven't a doubt
but that I shall be voting for him for President in another twenty
years.

We all had a beautiful time, and entirely forgot--for a space of three
hours--that 107 orphans slumbered about us. Much as I love the little
dears, it is pleasant to get away from them once in a while.

My guests left at ten, and it must be midnight by now. (This is the
eighth day, and my clock has stopped again; Jane forgets to wind it as
regularly as Friday comes around.) However, I know it's late; and as a
woman, it's my duty to try for beauty sleep, especially with an eligible
young suitor at hand.

I'll finish tomorrow. Good night.

Saturday.

Gordon spent this morning playing with my asylum and planning some
intelligent presents to be sent later. He thinks that three neatly
painted totem poles would add to the attractiveness of our Indian camps.
He is also going to make us a present of three dozen pink rompers for
the babies. Pink is a color that is very popular with the superintendent
of this asylum, who is deadly tired of blue! Our generous friend is
likewise amusing himself with the idea of a couple of donkeys and
saddles and a little red cart. Isn't it nice that Gordon's father
provided fo