We climbed Sky Hill Monday afternoon.  That’s a mountain near here; not an awfully high mountain, perhaps—­no snow on the summit—­but at least you are pretty breathless when you reach the top.  The lower slopes are covered with woods, but the top is just piled rocks and open moor.  We stayed up for the sunset and built a fire and cooked our supper.  Master Jervie did the cooking; he said he knew how better than me and he did, too, because he’s used to camping.  Then we came down by moonlight, and, when we reached the wood trail where it was dark, by the light of an electric bulb that he had in his pocket.  It was such fun!  He laughed and joked all the way and talked about interesting things.  He’s read all the books I’ve ever read, and a lot of others besides.  It’s astonishing how many different things he knows.

We went for a long tramp this morning and got caught in a storm.  Our clothes were drenched before we reached home but our spirits not even damp.  You should have seen Mrs. Semple’s face when we dripped into her kitchen.

`Oh, Master Jervie—­Miss Judy!  You are soaked through.  Dear!  Dear!  What shall I do?  That nice new coat is perfectly ruined.’

She was awfully funny; you would have thought that we were ten years old, and she a distracted mother.  I was afraid for a while that we weren’t going to get any jam for tea.

Saturday

I started this letter ages ago, but I haven’t had a second to finish it.

Isn’t this a nice thought from Stevenson?

The world is so full of a number of things,
I am sure we should all be as happy as kings.

It’s true, you know.  The world is full of happiness, and plenty to go round, if you are only willing to take the kind that comes your way.  The whole secret is in being pliable.  In the country, especially, there are such a lot of entertaining things.  I can walk over everybody’s land, and look at everybody’s view, and dabble in everybody’s brook; and enjoy it just as much as though I owned the land—­and with no taxes to pay!

It’s Sunday night now, about eleven o’clock, and I am supposed to be getting some beauty sleep, but I had black coffee for dinner, so—­no beauty sleep for me!

This morning, said Mrs. Semple to Mr. Pendleton, with a very determined accent: 

`We have to leave here at a quarter past ten in order to get to church by eleven.’

`Very well, Lizzie,’ said Master Jervie, `you have the buggy ready, and if I’m not dressed, just go on without waiting.’  ‘We’ll wait,’ said she.

`As you please,’ said he, `only don’t keep the horses standing too long.’

Then while she was dressing, he told Carrie to pack up a lunch, and he told me to scramble into my walking clothes; and we slipped out the back way and went fishing.

It discommoded the household dreadfully, because Lock Willow of a Sunday dines at two.  But he ordered dinner at seven—­he orders meals whenever he chooses; you would think the place were a restaurant—­ and that kept Carrie and Amasai from going driving.  But he said it was all the better because it wasn’t proper for them to go driving without a chaperon; and anyway, he wanted the horses himself to take me driving.  Did you ever hear anything so funny?