I called him 'Master Jervie' to his face, but he didn't appear to be
insulted. Julia says she has never seen him so amiable; he's usually
pretty unapproachable. But Julia hasn't a bit of tact; and men, I
find, require a great deal. They purr if you rub them the right way
and spit if you don't. (That isn't a very elegant metaphor. I mean it
figuratively.) We're reading Marie Bashkirtseff's journal. Isn't it amazing? Listen
to this: 'Last night I was seized by a fit of despair that found
utterance in moans, and that finally drove me to throw the dining-room
clock into the sea.' It makes me almost hope I'm not a genius; they must be very wearing to
have about--and awfully destructive to the furniture.
Mercy! how it keeps Pouring. We shall have to swim to chapel tonight.
Yours ever,
Judy
20th Jan.
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
Did you ever have a sweet baby girl who was stolen from the cradle in
infancy?
Maybe I am she! If we were in a novel, that would be the denouement,
wouldn't it?
It's really awfully queer not to know what one is--sort of exciting and
romantic. There are such a lot of possibilities. Maybe I'm not
American; lots of people aren't. I may be straight descended from the
ancient Romans, or I may be a Viking's daughter, or I may be the child
of a Russian exile and belong by rights in a Siberian prison, or maybe
I'm a Gipsy--I think perhaps I am. I have a very WANDERING spirit,
though I haven't as yet had much chance to develop it.
Do you know about that one scandalous blot in my career the time I ran
away from the asylum because they punished me for stealing cookies?
It's down in the books free for any Trustee to read. But really,
Daddy, what could you expect? When you put a hungry little nine-year
girl in the pantry scouring knives, with the cookie jar at her elbow,
and go off and leave her alone; and then suddenly pop in again,
wouldn't you expect to find her a bit crumby? And then when you jerk
her by the elbow and box her ears, and make her leave the table when
the pudding comes, and tell all the other children that it's because
she's a thief, wouldn't you expect her to run away?
I only ran four miles. They caught me and brought me back; and every
day for a week I was tied, like a naughty puppy, to a stake in the back
yard while the other children were out at recess.