Daddy-Long-Legs

30th May

Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Did you ever see this campus? (That is merely a rhetorical question.Don't let it annoy you.) It is a heavenly spot in May. All the shrubsare in blossom and the trees are the loveliest young green--even theold pines look fresh and new. The grass is dotted with yellowdandelions and hundreds of girls in blue and white and pink dresses.Everybody is joyous and carefree, for vacation's coming, and with thatto look forward to, examinations don't count.

Isn't that a happy frame of mind to be in? And oh, Daddy! I'm thehappiest of all! Because I'm not in the asylum any more; and I'm notanybody's nursemaid or typewriter or bookkeeper (I should have been,you know, except for you).

I'm sorry now for all my past badnesses.

I'm sorry I was ever impertinent to Mrs. Lippett.

I'm sorry I ever slapped Freddie Perkins.

I'm sorry I ever filled the sugar bowl with salt.

I'm sorry I ever made faces behind the Trustees' backs.

I'm going to be good and sweet and kind to everybody because I'm sohappy. And this summer I'm going to write and write and write andbegin to be a great author. Isn't that an exalted stand to take? Oh,I'm developing a beautiful character! It droops a bit under cold andfrost, but it does grow fast when the sun shines.

That's the way with everybody. I don't agree with the theory thatadversity and sorrow and disappointment develop moral strength. Thehappy people are the ones who are bubbling over with kindliness. Ihave no faith in misanthropes. (Fine word! Just learned it.) You arenot a misanthrope are you, Daddy?

I started to tell you about the campus. I wish you'd come for a littlevisit and let me walk you about and say:

'That is the library. This is the gas plant, Daddy dear. The Gothicbuilding on your left is the gymnasium, and the Tudor Romanesque besideit is the new infirmary.'

Oh, I'm fine at showing people about. I've done it all my life at theasylum, and I've been doing it all day here. I have honestly.

And a Man, too!

That's a great experience. I never talked to a man before (exceptoccasional Trustees, and they don't count). Pardon, Daddy, I don't meanto hurt your feelings when I abuse Trustees. I don't consider that youreally belong among them. You just tumbled on to the Board by chance.The Trustee, as such, is fat and pompous and benevolent. He pats oneon the head and wears a gold watch chain.

That looks like a June bug, but is meant to be a portrait of anyTrustee except you.

However--to resume:

I have been walking and talking and having tea with a man. And with avery superior man--with Mr. Jervis Pendleton of the House of Julia; heruncle, in short (in long, perhaps I ought to say; he's as tall as you.)Being in town on business, he decided to run out to the college andcall on his niece. He's her father's youngest brother, but she doesn'tknow him very intimately. It seems he glanced at her when she was ababy, decided he didn't like her, and has never noticed her since.

Anyway, there he was, sitting in the reception room very proper withhis hat and stick and gloves beside him; and Julia and Sallie withseventh-hour recitations that they couldn't cut. So Julia dashed intomy room and begged me to walk him about the campus and then deliver himto her when the seventh hour was over. I said I would, obligingly butunenthusiastically, because I don't care much for Pendletons.

But he turned out to be a sweet lamb. He's a real human being--not aPendleton at all. We had a beautiful time; I've longed for an uncleever since. Do you mind pretending you're my uncle? I believe they'resuperior to grandmothers.

Mr. Pendleton reminded me a little of you, Daddy, as you were twentyyears ago. You see I know you intimately, even if we haven't ever met!

He's tall and thinnish with a dark face all over lines, and thefunniest underneath smile that never quite comes through but justwrinkles up the corners of his mouth. And he has a way of making youfeel right off as though you'd known him a long time. He's verycompanionable.

We walked all over the campus from the quadrangle to the athleticgrounds; then he said he felt weak and must have some tea. He proposedthat we go to College Inn--it's just off the campus by the pine walk.I said we ought to go back for Julia and Sallie, but he said he didn'tlike to have his nieces drink too much tea; it made them nervous. Sowe just ran away and had tea and muffins and marmalade and ice-creamand cake at a nice little table out on the balcony. The inn was quiteconveniently empty, this being the end of the month and allowances low.

We had the jolliest time! But he had to run for his train the minutehe got back and he barely saw Julia at all. She was furious with mefor taking him off; it seems he's an unusually rich and desirableuncle. It relieved my mind to find he was rich, for the tea and thingscost sixty cents apiece.

This morning (it's Monday now) three boxes of chocolates came byexpress for Julia and Sallie and me. What do you think of that? To begetting candy from a man!

I begin to feel like a girl instead of a foundling.

I wish you'd come and have tea some day and let me see if I like you.But wouldn't it be dreadful if I didn't? However, I know I should.

Bien! I make you my compliments.

'Jamais je ne t'oublierai.' Judy

PS. I looked in the glass this morning and found a perfectly newdimple that I'd never seen before. It's very curious. Where do yousuppose it came from?