Good…by；
  SALLIE。
  Dearest　Judy：
  If　you　expect　a　cheerful　letter　from　me　the　day；　don't　read　this。
  The　life　of　man　is　a　wintry　road。　　Fog；　snow；　rain；　slush；　drizzle；　coldsuch　weather！　such　weather！　　And　you　in　dear　Jamaica　with　the　sunshine　and　the　orange　blossoms！
  We've　got　whooping　cough；　and　you　can　hear　us　whoop　when　you　get　off　the　train　two　miles　away。　　We　don't　know　how　we　got　it　just　one　of　the　pleasures　of　institution　life。　　Cook　has　left；　in　the　night；what　the　Scotch　call　a　〃moonlight　flitting。〃　　I　don't　know　how　she　got　her　trunk　away；　but　it's　gone。　　The　kitchen　fire　went　with　her。　　The　pipes　are　frozen。　　The　plumbers　are　here；　and　the　kitchen　floor　is　all　ripped　up。　One　of　our　horses　has　the　spavin。　　And；　to　crown　all；　our　cheery；　resourceful　Percy　is　down；　down；　down　in　the　depths　of　despair。　　We　have　not　been　quite　certain　for　three　days　past　whether　we　could　keep　him　from　suicide。　　The　girl　in　Detroit；I　knew　she　was　a　heartless　little　minx；without　so　much　as　going　through　the　formality　of　sending　back　his　ring；　has　gone　and　married　herself　to　a　man　and　a　couple　of　automobiles　and　a　yacht。　　It　is　the　best　thing　that　could　ever　have　happened　to　Percy；　but　it　will　be　a　long；　long　time　before　he　realizes　it。
  We　have　our　twenty…four　Indians　back　in　the　house　with　us。　　I　was　sorry　to　have　to　bring　them　in；　but　the　shacks　were　scarcely　planned　for　winter　quarters。　　I　have　stowed　them　away　very　comfortably；　however；　thanks　to　the　spacious　iron　verandas　surrounding　our　new　fire…escape。　　It　was　a　happy　idea　of　Jervis's　having　them　glassed　in　for　sleeping　porches。　　The　babies'　sun　parlor　is　a　wonderful　addition　to　our　nursery。　　We　can　fairly　see　the　little　tots　bloom　under　the　influence　of　that　extra　air　and　sunshine。
  With　the　return　of　the　Indians　to　civilized　life；　Percy's　occupation　was　ended；　and　he　was　supposed　to　remove　himself　to　the　hotel。　　But　he　didn't　want　to　remove　himself。　　He　has　got　used　to　orphans；　he　says；　and　he　would　miss　not　seeing　them　about。　　I　think　the　truth　is　that　he　is　feeling　so　miserable　over　his　wrecked　engagement　that　he　is　afraid　to　be　alone。　　He　needs　something　to　occupy　every　waking　moment　out　of　banking　hours。　　And　goodness　knows　we're　glad　enough　to　keep　him！　　He　has　been　wonderful　with　those　youngsters；　and　they　need　a　man's　influence。
  But　what　on　earth　to　do　with　the　man？　　As　you　discovered　last　summer；　this　spacious　chateau　does　not　contain　a　superabundance　of　guest　rooms。　　He　has　finally　fitted　himself　into　the　doctor's　laboratory；　and　the　medicines　have　moved　themselves　to　a　closet　down　the　hall。　　He　and　the　doctor　fixed　it　up　between　them；　and　if　they　are　willing　to　be　mutually　inconvenienced；　I　have　no　fault　to　find。
  Mercy！　　I've　just　looked　at　the　calendar；　and　it's　the　eighteenth；　with　Christmas　only　a　week　away。　　However　shall　we　finish　all　our　plans　in　a　week？　　The　chicks　are　making　presents　for　one　another；　and　something　like　a　thousand　secrets　have　been　whispered　in　my　ear。
  Snow　last　night。　　The　boys　have　spent　the　morning　in　the　woods；　gathering　evergreens　and　drawing　them　home　on　sleds；　and　twenty　girls　are　spending　the　afternoon　in　the　laundry；　winding　wreaths　for　the　windows。　　I　don't　know　how　we　are　going　to　do　our　washing　this　week。　　We　were　planning　to　keep　the　Christmas　tree　a　secret；　but　fully　fifty　children　have　been　boosted　up　to　the　carriage　house　window　to　take　a　peep　at　it；　and　I　am　afraid　the　news　has　spread　among　the　remaining　fifty。
  At　your　insistence；　we　have　sedulously　fostered　the　Santa　Claus　myth；　but　it　doesn't　meet　with　much　credence。　　〃Why　didn't　he　ever　come　before？〃　was　Sadie　Kate's　skeptical　question。　　But　Santa　Claus　is　undoubtedly　coming　this　time。　　I　asked　the　doctor；　out　of　politeness；　to　play　the　chief　role　at　our　Christmas　tree；　and　being　certain　ahead　of　time　that　he　was　going　to　refuse；　I　had　already　engaged　Percy　as　an　understudy。　　But　there　is　no　counting　on　a　Scotchman。　　Sandy　accepted　with　unprecedented　graciousness；　and　I　had　privately　to　unengage　Percy！
  Tuesday。
  Isn't　it　funny；　the　way　some　inconsequential　people　have　of　pouring　out　whatever　happens　to　be　churning　about　in　their　minds　at　the　moment？　　They　seem　to　have　no　residue　of　small　talk；　and　are　never　able　to　dismiss　a　crisis　in　order　to　discuss　the　weather。
  This　is　apropos　of　a　call　I　received　today。　　A　woman　had　come　to　deliver　her　sister's　childsister　in　a　sanatorium　for　tuberculosis；　we　to　keep　the　child　until　the　mother　is　cured；　though　I　fear；　from　what　I　hear；　that　will　never　be。　　But；　anyway；　all　the　arrangements　had　been　made；　and　the　woman　had　merely　to　hand　in　the　little　girl　and　retire。　　But　having　a　couple　of　hours　between　trains；　she　intimated　a　desire　to　look　about；　so　I　showed　her　the　kindergarten　rooms　and　the　little　crib　that　Lily　will　occupy；　and　our　yellow　dining　room；　with　its　frieze　of　bunnies；　in　order　that　she　might　report　as　many　cheerful　details　as　possible　to　the　poor　mother。　　After　this；　as　she　seemed　tired；　I　socially　asked　her　to　walk　into　my　parlor　and　have　a　cup　of　tea。　　Doctor　MacRae；　being　at　hand　and　in　a　hungry　mood　（a　rare　state　for　him；　he　now　condescends　to　a　cup　of　tea　with　the　officers　of　this　institution　about　twice　a　month）；　came；　too；　and　we　had　a　little　party。
  The　woman　seemed　to　feel　that　the　burden　of　entertainment　rested　upon　her；　and　by　way　of　making　conversation；　she　told　us　that　her　husband　had　fallen　in　love　with　the　girl　who　sold　tickets　at　a　moving　picture　show　（a　painted；　yellow…haired　thing　who　chewed　gum　like　a　cow；　was　her　description　of　the　enchantress）；　and　he　spent　all　of　his　money　on　the　girl；　and　never　came　home　except　when　he　was　drunk。　　Then　he　smashed　the　furniture　something　awful。　　An　easel；　with　her　mother's　picture　on　it；　that　she　had　had　since　before　she　was　married；　he　had　thrown　down　just　for　the　pleasure　of　hearing　it　crash。　　And　finally　she　had　just　got　too　tired　to　live；　so　she　drank　a　bottle　of　swamp　root　because　somebody　had　told　her　it　was　poison　if　you　took　it　all　at　once。　　But　it　didn't　kill　her；　it　only　made　her　sick。　　And　he　came　back；　and　said　he　would　choke　her　if　she　ever　tried　that　on　him　again；　so　she　guessed　he　must　still　care　something　for　her。　　All　this　quite　casually　while　she　stirred　her　tea。
  I　tried　to　think　of　something　to　say；　but　it　was　a　social　exigency　that　left　me　dumb。　　But　Sandy　rose　to　the　occasion　like　a　gentleman。　　He　talked　to　her　beautifully　and　sanely；　and　sent　her　away　actually　uplifted。　　Our　Sandy；　when　he　tries；　can　be　exceptionally　nice；　particularly　to　people　who　have　no　claim　upon　him。　　I　suppose　it　is　a　matter　of　professional　etiquette　part　of　a　doctor's　business　to　heal　the　spirit　as　well　as　the　body。　　Most　spirits　appear　to　need　it　in　this　world。　　My　caller　has　left　me　needing　it。　　I　have　been　wondering　ever　since　what　I　should　do　if　I　married　a　man　who　deserted　me　for　a　chewing　gum　girl；　and　who　came　home　and　smashed　the　bric…a…brac。　　I　suppose；　judging　from　the　theaters　this　winter；　that　it　is　a　thing　that　might　happen　to　any　one；　particularly　in　the　best　society。
  You　ought　to　be　thankful　you've　got　Jervis。　　There　is　something　awfully　certain　about　a　man　like　him。　　The　longer　I　live；　the　surer　I　am　that　character　is　the　only　thing　that　counts。　　But　how　on　earth　can　you　ever　tell？　　Men　are　so　good　at　talking！　　Good…by；　and　a　merry　Christmas　to　Jervis　and　both　Judies。
  S。　McB。
  P。S。　　It　would　be　a　pleasant　attention　if　you　would　answer　my　letters　a　little　more　promptly。
  JOHN　GRIER　HOME；
  December　29。　Dear　Judy：
  Sadie　Kate　has　spent　the　week　composing　a　Christmas　letter　to　you；　and　it　leaves　nothing　for　me　to　tell。　　Oh；　we've　had　a　wonderful　time！　　Besides　all　the　presents　and　games　and　fancy　things　to　eat；　we　have　had　hayrides　and　skating　parties　and　candy　pulls。　　I　don't　know　whether　these　pampered　little　orphans　will　ever　settle　down　again　into　normal　children。
  Many　thanks　for　my　six　gifts。　　I　like　them　all；　particularly　the　picture　of　Judy；　junior；　the　tooth　adds　a　pleasant　touch　to　her　smile。
  You'll　be　glad　to　hear　that　I've　placed　out　Hattie　Heaphy　in　a　minister's　family；　and　a　dear　family　they　are。　　They　never　blinked　an　eyelash　when　I　told　them　about　the　communion　cup。　　They've　given　her　to　themselves　for　a　Christmas　present；　and　she　went　off　so　happily；　clinging　to　her　new　father's　hand！
  I　won't　write　more　now；　because　fifty　children　are　writing　thank…you　letters；　and　poor　Aunt　Judy　will　be　buried　beneath　her　mail　when　this　week's　steamer　gets　in。
  My　love　to　the　Pendletons。
  S。　McB。
  P。S。　　Singapore　ends　his　love　to　Togo；　and　is　sorry　he　bit　him　on　the　ear。
  JOHN　GRIER　HOME；
  December　30。
  O　DEAR；　Gordon；　I　have　been　reading　the　most　upsetting　book！
  I　tried　to　talk　some　French　the　other　day；　and　not　making　out　very　well；　decided　that　I　had　better　take