Oh, Daddy, I'm so excited! I can't wait till daylight to explore.
It's 8.30 now, and I am about to blow out my candle and try to go to
sleep. We rise at five. Did you ever know such fun? I can't believe
this is really Judy. You and the Good Lord give me more than I
deserve. I must be a very, very, VERY good person to pay. I'm going
to be. You'll see.
Good night,
Judy
PS. You should hear the frogs sing and the little pigs squeal and you
should see the new moon! I saw it over my right shoulder.
LOCK WILLOW,
12th July
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
How did your secretary come to know about Lock Willow? (That isn't a
rhetorical question. I am awfully curious to know.) For listen to
this: Mr. Jervis Pendleton used to own this farm, but now he has given
it to Mrs. Semple who was his old nurse. Did you ever hear of such a
funny coincidence? She still calls him 'Master Jervie' and talks about
what a sweet little boy he used to be. She has one of his baby curls
put away in a box, and it is red--or at least reddish!
Since she discovered that I know him, I have risen very much in her
opinion. Knowing a member of the Pendleton family is the best
introduction one can have at Lock Willow. And the cream of the whole
family is Master Jervis--I am pleased to say that Julia belongs to an
inferior branch.
The farm gets more and more entertaining. I rode on a hay wagon
yesterday. We have three big pigs and nine little piglets, and you
should see them eat. They are pigs! We've oceans of little baby
chickens and ducks and turkeys and guinea fowls. You must be mad to
live in a city when you might live on a farm.
It is my daily business to hunt the eggs. I fell off a beam in the
barn loft yesterday, while I was trying to crawl over to a nest that
the black hen has stolen. And when I came in with a scratched knee,
Mrs. Semple bound it up with witch-hazel, murmuring all the time,
'Dear! Dear! It seems only yesterday that Master Jervie fell off that
very same beam and scratched this very same knee.' The scenery around here is perfectly beautiful. There's a valley and a
river and a lot of wooded hills, and way in the distance a tall blue
mountain that simply melts in your mouth.
We churn twice a week; and we keep the cream in the spring house which
is made of stone with the brook running underneath. Some of the
farmers around here have a separator, but we don't care for these
new-fashioned ideas. It may be a little harder to separate the cream
in pans, but it's sufficiently better to pay. We have six calves; and
I've chosen the names for all of them.