"Orphans" is merely my generic term for the children; a good many
of them are not orphans in the least. They have one troublesome and
tenacious parent left who won't sign a surrender, so I can't place them
out for adoption. But those that are available would be far better off
in loving foster-homes than in the best institution that I can ever
make. So I am fitting them for adoption as quickly as possible, and
searching for the homes.
You ought to run across a lot of pleasant families in your travels;
can't you bully some of them into adopting children? Boys by preference.
We've got an awful lot of extra boys, and nobody wants them. Talk about
anti-feminism! It's nothing to the anti-masculinism that exists in the
breasts of adopting parents. I could place out a thousand dimpled little
girls with yellow hair, but a good live boy from nine to thirteen is a
drug on the market. There seems to be a general feeling that they track
in dirt and scratch up mahogany furniture.
Shouldn't you think that men's clubs might like to adopt boys, as a sort
of mascot? The boy could be boarded in a nice respectable family, and
drawn out by the different members on Saturday afternoons. They could
take him to ball games and the circus, and then return him when they
had had enough, just as you do with a library book. It would be very
valuable training for the bachelors. People are forever talking about
the desirability of training girls for motherhood. Why not institute a
course of training in fatherhood, and get the best men's clubs to take
it up? Will you please have Jervis agitate the matter at his various
clubs, and I'll have Gordon start the idea in Washington. They both
belong to such a lot of clubs that we ought to dispose of at least a
dozen boys.
I remain,
The ever-distracted mother of 113.
S. McB.
THE JOHN GRIER HOME,
March 18.
Dear Judy:
I have been having a pleasant respite from the 113 cares of motherhood.
Yesterday who should drop down upon our peaceful village but Mr. Gordon
Hallock, on his way back to Washington to resume the cares of the
nation. At least he said it was on his way, but I notice from the map in
the primary room that it was one hundred miles out of his way.
And dear, but I was glad to see him! He is the first glimpse of the
outside world I have had since I was incarcerated in this asylum. And
such a lot of entertaining businesses he had to talk about! He knows the
inside of all the outside things you read in the newspapers; so far as I
can make out, he is the social center about which Washington revolves.
I always knew he would get on in politics, for he has a way with him;
there's no doubt about it.