ns prompted
them.

Prue was wild with delight, and was about to print a letter for Randy,
when it was proposed at school that the long letter from her schoolmates
should be written and little Prue was invited to have a part in it.

The letter was a most amusing one, and Randy and Helen laughed heartily as
they saw the characteristics of the writers, as manifest, as if each had
been present.

They had taken half sheets of paper and pasted the ends together so that a
long strip of writing paper was obtained. Then each friend had written
and signed his contribution, and truly the result was unique. Prue had
been given ample space for her part of what she termed the "party letter,"
and with great care she printed it. Her spelling was phonetic.

"DEAR RANDY:--Nobudy ever had a dolly so lovely as mine you
sended me. I ust tu take Tabby tu bed wiv me but now I take mi
dolly. 1 day Tabby washed her hare, I meen my dollys hare I gess
she thort it waz 1 of her kittns. Tabbys got tu kittns. They has
not got thay ize open yet, so I tryd tu pick um opn, but arnt
Prudence sed that wood be cruil. If thay cant git thay ize opn
thayselfs why aint I good tu pick um opn wiv my fingus

"Yor little
PRUE."

"What _will_ Prue do next, I wonder?" said Randy.

"The idea of thinking that because those little cats could not open their
eyes, it would be a fine idea to 'pick' them open!"

Randy pitied those kittens, but she could not help laughing as she thought
of Prue's efforts to help them.

"She is probably wild to have those kittens see her new doll," said Miss
Dayton.

The long letter from her schoolmates at home had reached Randy on a stormy
Saturday morning, when the wind was blowing the snow against the windows
with such force that it sounded like hail. She thought of the horses
harnessed to the rough snow ploughs "breaking out" the roads at home, of
the pine trees laden with what looked to be giant masses of white fruit,
of the snow-capped mountains and of little Prue, with hood and mittens, at
play with Johnny Buffum, and she wished to be borne there by some
magician, if only for a moment, that she might see it all as she had seen
it, ever since she could remember.

Randy was, from the first, one of the most promising scholars at the
private school which she had entered a week after her arrival in Boston,
and her letters to father and mother, Aunt Prudence and to her friends at
the littl