Now, I know all of these things and a lot of others besides, but you
can see how much I need to catch up. And oh, but it's fun! I look
forward all day to evening, and then I put an 'engaged' on the door and
get into my nice red bath robe and furry slippers and pile all the
cushions behind me on the couch, and light the brass student lamp at my
elbow, and read and read and read one book isn't enough. I have four
going at once. Just now, they're Tennyson's poems and Vanity Fair and
Kipling's Plain Tales and--don't laugh--Little Women. I find that I am
the only girl in college who wasn't brought up on Little Women. I
haven't told anybody though (that WOULD stamp me as queer). I just
quietly went and bought it with $1.12 of my last month's allowance; and
the next time somebody mentions pickled limes, I'll know what she is
talking about!
(Ten o'clock bell. This is a very interrupted letter.)
Saturday
Sir, I have the honour to report fresh explorations in the field of
geometry. On Friday last we abandoned our former works in
parallelopipeds and proceeded to truncated prisms. We are finding the
road rough and very uphill.
Sunday
The Christmas holidays begin next week and the trunks are up. The
corridors are so filled up that you can hardly get through, and
everybody is so bubbling over with excitement that studying is getting
left out. I'm going to have a beautiful time in vacation; there's
another Freshman who lives in Texas staying behind, and we are planning
to take long walks and if there's any ice--learn to skate. Then there
is still the whole library to be read--and three empty weeks to do it
in!
Goodbye, Daddy, I hope that you are feeling as happy as am.
Yours ever,
Judy
PS. Don't forget to answer my question. If you don't want the trouble
of writing, have your secretary telegraph. He can just say: Mr. Smith is quite bald, or Mr. Smith is not bald, or Mr. Smith has white hair.
And you can deduct the twenty-five cents out of my allowance.
Goodbye till January--and a merry Christmas!
Towards the end of
the Christmas vacation.
Exact date unknown
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
Is it snowing where you are? All the world that I see from my tower is
draped in white and the flakes are coming down as big as pop-corns.
It's late afternoon--the sun is just setting (a cold yellow colour)
behind some colder violet hills, and I am up in my window seat using
the last light to write to you.