Jimmie fell upon him for backing in his camp scheme, and the doctor gave
it enthusiastically. They seized pencil and paper and drew up plans. And
before the evening was over, the last nail was hammered. Nothing would
satisfy those two men but to go to the telephone at ten o'clock and
rouse a poor carpenter from his sleep. He and some lumber are ordered
for eight in the morning.
I finally got rid of them at ten-thirty, still talking uprights and
joists and drainage and roof slants.
The excitement of Jimmie and coffee and all these building operations
induced me to sit down immediately and write a letter to you; but I
think, by your leave, I'll postpone further details to another time.
Yours ever,
SALLIE.
Saturday.
Dear Enemy:
Will you be after dining with us at seven tonight? It's a real dinner
party; we're going to have ice-cream.
My brother has discovered a promising young man to take charge of the
boys,--maybe you know him,--Mr. Witherspoon, at the bank. I wish to
introduce him to asylum circles by easy steps, so PLEASE don't mention
insanity or epilepsy or alcoholism or any of your other favorite topics.
He is a gay young society leader, used to very fancy things to eat. Do
you suppose we can ever make him happy at the John Grier Home? Yours in
evident haste,
SALLIE McBRIDE.
Sunday.
Dear Judy:
Jimmie was back at eight Friday morning, and the doctor at a quarter
past. They and the carpenter and our new farmer and Noah and our two
horses and our eight biggest boys have been working ever since. Never
were building operations set going in faster time. I wish I had a dozen
Jimmies on the place, though I will say that my brother works faster
if you catch him before the first edge of his enthusiasm wears away. He
would not be much good at chiseling out a medieval cathedral.
He came back Saturday morning aglow with a new idea. He had met at
the hotel the night before a friend who belongs to his hunting club in
Canada, and who is cashier of our First (and only) National Bank.
"He's a bully good sport," said Jimmie, "and exactly the man you want
to camp out with those kids and lick 'em into shape. He'll be willing to
come for his board and forty dollars a month, because he's engaged to a
girl in Detroit and wants to save. I told him the food was rotten, but
if he kicked enough, you'd probably get a new cook."
"What's his name?" said I, with guarded interest.