I　have　just　read　this　letter　over；　and　I　must　admit　that　it　skips　lightly　from　topic　to　topic。　　But　though　it　may　not　contain　news　of　any　great　moment；　I　trust　you　will　realize　that　its　writing　has　consumed　every　vacant　minute　during　the　last　three　days。　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　I　am；
  Most　fully　occupied；
  SALLIE　McBRIDE。
  P。S。　　A　blessed　woman　came　this　morning　and　said　she　would　take　a　child　for　the　summerone　of　the　sickest；　weakest；　neediest　babies　I　could　give　her。　　She　had　just　lost　her　husband；　and　wanted　something　HARD　to　do。　　Isn't　that　really　very　touching？
  Saturday　afternoon。　Dear　Judy　and　Jervis：
  Brother　Jimmie　（we　are　very　alliterative！）；　spurred　on　by　sundry　begging　letters　from　me；　has　at　last　sent　us　a　present；　but　he　picked　it　out　himself。
  WE　HAVE　A　MONKEY！　　His　name　is　Java。　The　children　no　longer　hear　the　school　bell　ring。　　On　the　day　the　creature　came；　this　entire　institution　formed　in　line　and　filed　past　and　shook　his　paw。　　Poor　Sing's　nose　is　out　of　joint。　　I　have　to　PAY　to　have　him　washed。
  Sadie　Kate　is　developing　into　my　private　secretary。　　I　have　her　answer　the　thank…you　letters　for　the　institution；　and　her　literary　style　is　making　a　hit　among　our　benefactors。　　She　invariably　calls　out　a　second　gift。　　I　had　hitherto　believed　that　the　Kilcoyne　family　sprang　from　the　wild　west　of　Ireland；　but　I　begin　to　suspect　that　their　source　was　nearer　Blarney　Castle。　　You　can　see　from　the　inclosed　copy　of　the　letter　she　sent　to　Jimmie　what　a　persuasive　pen　the　young　person　has。　　I　trust　that　in　this　case　at　least；　it　will　not　bear　the　fruit　that　she　suggests。
  Dear　Mr。　Jimie
  We　thank　you　very　much　for　the　lovly　monkey　you　give。　　We　name　him　java　because　that's　a　warm　iland　across　the　ocian　where　he　was　born　up　in　a　nest　like　a　bird　only　big　the　doctor　told　us。
  The　first　day　he　come　every　boy　and　girl　shook　his　hand　and　said　good　morning　java　his　hand　feels　funny　he　holds　so　tite。　　I　was　afraid　to　touch　him　but　now　I　let　him　sit　on　my　shoulder　and　put　his　arms　around　my　kneck　if　he　wants　to。　　He　makes　a　funny　noise　that　sounds　like　swering　and　gets　mad　when　his　tale　is　puled。
  We　love　him　dearly　and　we　love　you　two。
  The　next　time　you　have　to　give　a　present；　please　send　an　elifant。　　Well　I　guess　Ill　stop。
  Yours　truly；
  SADIE　KATE　KILCOYNE。
  Percy　de　Forest　Witherspoon　is　still　faithful　to　his　little　followers；　though　I　am　so　afraid　he　will　get　tired　that　I　urge　him　to　take　frequent　vacations。　　He　has　not　only　been　faithful　himself；　but　has　brought　in　recruits。　　He　has　large　social　connections　in　the　neighborhood；　and　last　Saturday　evening　he　introduced　two　friends；　nice　men　who　sat　around　the　campfire　and　swapped　hunting　stories。
  One　of　them　was　just　back　from　around　the　world；　and　told　hair…raising　anecdotes　of　the　head　hunters　of　Sarawak；　a　narrow　pink　country　on　the　top　of　Borneo。　　My　little　braves　pant　to　grow　up　and　get　to　Sarawak；　and　go　out　on　the　war…path　after　head　hunters。　　Every　encyclopedia　in　this　institution　has　been　consulted；　and　there　isn't　a　boy　here　who　cannot　tell　you　the　history；　manners；　climate；　flora；　and　fungi　of　Borneo。　　I　only　wish　Mr。　Witherspoon　would　introduce　friends　who　had　been　head　hunting　in　England；　France；　and　Germany；　countries　not　quite　so　CHIC　as　Sarawak；　but　more　useful　for　general　culture。
  We　have　a　new　cook；　the　fourth　since　my　reign　began。　　I　haven't　bothered　you　with　my　cooking　troubles；　but　institutions　don't　escape　any　more　than　families。　　The　last　is　a　negro　woman；　a　big；　fat；　smiling；　chocolate…colored　creature　from　Souf　Ca'lina。　　And　ever　since　she　came　on　honey　dew　we've　fed！　　Her　name　iswhat　do　you　guess？　　SALLIE；　if　you　please。　　I　suggested　that　she　change　it。
  〃Sho；　Miss；　I's　had　dat　name　Sallie　longer'n　you；　an'　I　couldn't　get　used　nohow　to　answerin'　up　pert…like　when　you　sings　out　‘Mollie！'　　Seems　like　Sallie　jest　b'longs　to　me。〃
  So　〃Sallie〃　she　remains；　but　at　least　there　is　no　danger　of　our　getting　our　letters　mixed；　for　her　last　name　is　nothing　so　plebeian　as　McBride。　　It's　Johnston…Washington；　with　a　hyphen。
  Sunday。
  Our　favorite　game　of　late　is　finding　pet　names　for　Sandy。　　His　austere　presence　lends　itself　to　caricature。　　We　have　just　originated　a　new　batch。　　The　〃Laird　o'　Cockpen〃　is　Percy's　choice。
  The　Laird　o'　Cockpen　he's　proud　and　he's　great；　　　　　　　　　　　　His　mind　is　ta'en　up　wi'　the　things　of　the　state。
  Miss　Snaith　disgustedly　calls　him　〃that　man；〃　and　Betsy　refers　to　him　（in　his　absence）　as　〃Dr。　Cod…Liver。〃　　My　present　favorite　is　〃Macphairson　Clon　Glocketty　Angus　McClan。〃　　But　for　real　poetic　feeling；　Sadie　Kate　beats　us　all。　　She　calls　him　〃Mister　Someday　Soon。〃　　I　don't　believe　that　the　doctor　ever　dropped　into　verse　but　once　in　his　life；　but　every　child　in　this　institution　knows　that　one　poem　by　heart。
  Someday　soon　something　nice　is　going　to　happen；
  Be　a　good　little　girl　and　take　this　hint：　Swallow　with　a　smile　your　cod…liver　ile；
  And　the　first　thing　you　know　you　will　have　a　peppermint。
  It's　this　evening　that　Betsy　and　I　attend　his　supper　party；　and　I　confess　that　we　are　looking　forward　to　seeing　the　interior　of　his　gloomy　mansion　with　gleeful　eagerness。　　He　never　talks　about　himself　or　his　past　or　anybody　connected　with　himself。　　He　appears　to　be　an　isolated　figure　standing　on　a　pedestal　labeled　S　C　I　E　N　C　E；　without　a　glimmer　of　any　ordinary　affections　or　emotions　or　human　frailties　except　temper。　　Betsy　and　I　are　simply　eaten　up　with　curiosity　to　know　what　sort　of　past　he　came　out　of；　but　just　let　us　get　inside　his　house；　and　to　our　detective　senses　it　will　tell　its　own　story。　　So　long　as　the　portal　was　guarded　by　a　fierce　McGurk；　we　had　despaired　of　ever　effecting　an　entrance；　but　now；　behold！　　The　door　has　opened　of　its　own　accord。
  To　be　continued。
  S。　McB。
  Monday。　Dear　Judy：
  We　attended　the　doctor's　supper　party　last　night；　Betsy　and　Mr。　Witherspoon　and　I。　　It　turned　out　a　passably　cheerful　occasion；　though　I　will　say　that　it　began　under　heavy　auspices。
  His　house　on　the　inside　is　all　that　the　outside　promises。　　Never　in　my　life　have　I　seen　such　an　interior　as　that　man's　dining　room。　　The　walls　and　carpets　and　lambrequins　are　a　heavy　dark　green。　　A　black　marble　mantelpiece　shelters　a　few　smoking　black　coals。　　The　furniture　is　as　nearly　black　as　furniture　comes。　　The　decorations　are　two　steel　engravings　in　shiny　black　framesthe　〃Monarch　of　the　Glen；〃　and　the　〃Stag　at　Bay。〃
  We　tried　hard　to　be　light　and　sparkling；　but　it　was　like　eating　supper　in　the　family　vault。　　Mrs。　McGurk；　in　black　alpaca　with　a　black　silk　apron；　clumped　around　the　table；　passing　cold；　heavy　things　to　eat；　with　a　step　so　firm　that　she　rattled　the　silver　in　the　sideboard　drawers。　　Her　nose　was　up；　and　her　mouth　was　down。　　She　clearly　does　not　approve　of　the　master's　entertaining；　and　she　wishes　to　discourage　all　guests　from　ever　accepting　again。
  Sandy　sort　of　dimly　knows　that　there　is　something　the　matter　with　his　house；　and　in　order　to　brighten　it　up　a　bit　in　honor　of　his　guests；　he　had　purchased　flowers；dozens　of　them；the　most　exquisite　pink　Killarney　roses　and　red　and　yellow　tulips。　　The　McGurk　had　wedged　them　all　together　as　tight　as　they　would　fit　into　a　peacock…blue　jardiniere；　and　plumped　it　down　in　the　center　of　the　table。　　The　thing　was　as　big　as　a　bushel…basket。　　Betsy　and　I　nearly　forgot　our　manners　when　we　saw　that　centerpiece；　but　the　doctor　seemed　so　innocently　pleased　at　having　obtained　a　bright　note　in　his　dining　room　that　we　suppressed　our　amusement　and　complimented　him　warmly　upon　his　happy　color　scheme。
  The　moment　supper　was　over；　we　hastened　with　relief　to　his　own　part　of　the　house；　where　the　McGurk's　influence　does　not　penetrate。　　No　one　in　a　cleaning　capacity　ever　enters　either　his　library　or　office　or　laboratory　except　Llewelyn；　a　short；　wiry；　bow…legged　Welshman；　who　combines　to　a　unique　degree　the　qualities　of　chambermaid　and　chauffeur。
  The　library；　though　not　the　most　cheerful　room　I　have　ever　seen；　still；　for　a　man's　house；　is　not　so　badbooks　all　around　from　floor　to　ceiling；　with　the　overflow　in　piles　on　floor　and　table　and　mantelpiece；　half　a　dozen　abysmal　leather　chairs　and　a　rug　or　so；　with　another　black　marble　mantelpiece；　but　this　time　containing　a　crackling　wood　fire。　　By　way　of　bric…a…brac；　he　has　a　stuffed　pelican　and　a　crane　with　a　frog　in　its　mouth；　also　a　raccoon　sitting　on　a　log；　and　a　varnished　tarpon。　　A　faint　suggestion　of　iodoform　floats　in　the　air。
  The　doctor　made　the　coffee　himself　in　a　French　machine；　and　we　dismissed　his　housekeeper　from　our　spirits。　　He　really　did　do　his　best　to　be　a　thoughtful　host　and　I　have　to　report　that　the　word　〃insanity〃　was　not　once　mentioned。　　It　seems　that　Sandy；　in　his　moments　of　relaxation；　is　a　fisherman。　　He　and　Percy　began　swapping　stories　of　salmon　and　trout；　and　he　finally　got　out　his　case　of　fishing　flies；　a