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Authors: Jean Webster
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much tea; it made them nervous. So we just ran away and had tea and muffins and marmalade and ice-cream and cake at a nice little table out on the balcony. The inn was quite conveniently empty, this being the end of the month and allowances low.
We had the jolliest time! But he had to run for his train the minute he got back and he barely saw Julia at all. She was furious with me for taking him off; it seems heâs an unusually rich and desirable uncle. It relieved my mind to find he was rich, for the tea and things cost sixty cents apiece.
This morning (itâs Monday now) three boxes of chocolates came by express for Julia and Sallie and me. What do you think of that? To be getting candy from a man!
I begin to feel like a girl instead of a foundling.
I wish youâd come and take tea some day and let me see if I like you. But wouldnât it be dreadful if I didnât? However, I know I should.
Bien! I make you my compliments.
âJamais je ne tâoublierai.â 32
JUDY.
Â
P.S. I looked in the glass this morning and found a perfectly new dimple that Iâd never seen before. Itâs very curious. Where do you suppose it came from?
Â
June 9th.
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
Happy day! Iâve just finished my last examinationâPhysiology. And now:
Three months on a farm!
I donât know what kind of a thing a farm is. Iâve never been on one in my life. Iâve never even looked at one (except from the car window), but I know Iâm going to love it, and Iâm going to love being free.
I am not used even yet to being outside the John Grier Home. Whenever I think of it excited little thrills chase up and down my back. I feel as though I must run faster and faster and keep looking over my shoulder to make sure that Mrs. Lippett isnât after me with her arm stretched out to grab me back.
I donât have to mind any one this summer, do I?
Your nominal authority doesnât annoy me in the least; you are too far away to do any harm. Mrs. Lippett is dead forever, so far as I am concerned, and the Semples arenât expected to overlook my moral welfare, are they? No, I am sure not. I am entirely grown up. Hooray!
I leave you now to pack a trunk, and three boxes of tea-kettles and dishes and sofa cushions and books.
Yours ever,
JUDY.
Â
P.S. Here is my physiology exam. Do you think you could have passed?
Â
Â
LOCK WILLOW FARM,
Saturday night.
Dearest Daddy-Long-Legs,
Iâve only just come and Iâm not unpacked, but I canât wait to tell you how much I like farms. This is a heavenly, heavenly, heavenly spot! The house is square like this:
And old. A hundred years or so. It has a veranda on the side which I canât draw and a sweet porch in front. The picture really doesnât do it justiceâthose things that look like feather dusters are maple trees, and the prickly ones that border the drive are murmuring pines and hemlocks. It stands on the top of a hill and looks way off over miles of green meadows to another line of hills.
That is the way Connecticut goes, in a series of Marcelle waves; 33 and Lock Willow Farm is just on the crest of one wave. The barns used to be across the road where they obstructed the view, but a kind flash of lightning came from heaven and burnt them down.
The people are Mr. and Mrs. Semple and a hired girl and two hired men. The hired people eat in the kitchen, and the Semples and Judy in the dining-room. We had ham and eggs and biscuits and honey and jelly-cake and pie and pickles and cheese and tea for supperâand a great deal of conversation. I have never been so entertaining in my life; everything I say appears to be funny. I suppose it is, because Iâve never been in the country before, and my questions are backed by an all-inclusive ignorance.
The room marked with a cross is not where the murder was committed, but the one that I occupy. Itâs big and square and empty, with adorable
We had the jolliest time! But he had to run for his train the minute he got back and he barely saw Julia at all. She was furious with me for taking him off; it seems heâs an unusually rich and desirable uncle. It relieved my mind to find he was rich, for the tea and things cost sixty cents apiece.
This morning (itâs Monday now) three boxes of chocolates came by express for Julia and Sallie and me. What do you think of that? To be getting candy from a man!
I begin to feel like a girl instead of a foundling.
I wish youâd come and take tea some day and let me see if I like you. But wouldnât it be dreadful if I didnât? However, I know I should.
Bien! I make you my compliments.
âJamais je ne tâoublierai.â 32
JUDY.
Â
P.S. I looked in the glass this morning and found a perfectly new dimple that Iâd never seen before. Itâs very curious. Where do you suppose it came from?
Â
June 9th.
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
Happy day! Iâve just finished my last examinationâPhysiology. And now:
Three months on a farm!
I donât know what kind of a thing a farm is. Iâve never been on one in my life. Iâve never even looked at one (except from the car window), but I know Iâm going to love it, and Iâm going to love being free.
I am not used even yet to being outside the John Grier Home. Whenever I think of it excited little thrills chase up and down my back. I feel as though I must run faster and faster and keep looking over my shoulder to make sure that Mrs. Lippett isnât after me with her arm stretched out to grab me back.
I donât have to mind any one this summer, do I?
Your nominal authority doesnât annoy me in the least; you are too far away to do any harm. Mrs. Lippett is dead forever, so far as I am concerned, and the Semples arenât expected to overlook my moral welfare, are they? No, I am sure not. I am entirely grown up. Hooray!
I leave you now to pack a trunk, and three boxes of tea-kettles and dishes and sofa cushions and books.
Yours ever,
JUDY.
Â
P.S. Here is my physiology exam. Do you think you could have passed?
Â
Â
LOCK WILLOW FARM,
Saturday night.
Dearest Daddy-Long-Legs,
Iâve only just come and Iâm not unpacked, but I canât wait to tell you how much I like farms. This is a heavenly, heavenly, heavenly spot! The house is square like this:
And old. A hundred years or so. It has a veranda on the side which I canât draw and a sweet porch in front. The picture really doesnât do it justiceâthose things that look like feather dusters are maple trees, and the prickly ones that border the drive are murmuring pines and hemlocks. It stands on the top of a hill and looks way off over miles of green meadows to another line of hills.
That is the way Connecticut goes, in a series of Marcelle waves; 33 and Lock Willow Farm is just on the crest of one wave. The barns used to be across the road where they obstructed the view, but a kind flash of lightning came from heaven and burnt them down.
The people are Mr. and Mrs. Semple and a hired girl and two hired men. The hired people eat in the kitchen, and the Semples and Judy in the dining-room. We had ham and eggs and biscuits and honey and jelly-cake and pie and pickles and cheese and tea for supperâand a great deal of conversation. I have never been so entertaining in my life; everything I say appears to be funny. I suppose it is, because Iâve never been in the country before, and my questions are backed by an all-inclusive ignorance.
The room marked with a cross is not where the murder was committed, but the one that I occupy. Itâs big and square and empty, with adorable
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