I refuse, sir, to give up the scholarship; and if you make any more fuss, I won’t accept the monthly allowance either, but will wear myself into a nervous wreck tutoring stupid Freshmen.

That is my ultimatum!

And listen—­I have a further thought.  Since you are so afraid that by taking this scholarship I am depriving someone else of an education, I know a way out.  You can apply the money that you would have spent for me towards educating some other little girl from the John Grier Home.  Don’t you think that’s a nice idea?  Only, Daddy, educate the new girl as much as you choose, but please don’t like her any better than me.

I trust that your secretary won’t be hurt because I pay so little attention to the suggestions offered in his letter, but I can’t help it if he is.  He’s a spoiled child, Daddy.  I’ve meekly given in to his whims heretofore, but this time I intend to be firm.

Yours,
       With a mind,
           Completely and Irrevocably and
               World-without-End Made-up,

Jerusha Abbott

9th November
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

I started down town today to buy a bottle of shoe blacking and some collars and the material for a new blouse and a jar of violet cream and a cake of Castile soap—­all very necessary; I couldn’t be happy another day without them—­and when I tried to pay the car fare, I found that I had left my purse in the pocket of my other coat.  So I had to get out and take the next car, and was late for gymnasium.

It’s a dreadful thing to have no memory and two coats!

Julia Pendleton has invited me to visit her for the Christmas holidays.  How does that strike you, Mr. Smith?  Fancy Jerusha Abbott, of the John Grier Home, sitting at the tables of the rich.  I don’t know why Julia wants me—­she seems to be getting quite attached to me of late.  I should, to tell the truth, very much prefer going to Sallie’s, but Julia asked me first, so if I go anywhere it must be to New York instead of to Worcester.  I’m rather awed at the prospect of meeting Pendletons en Masse, and also I’d have to get a lot of new clothes—­so, Daddy dear, if you write that you would prefer having me remain quietly at college, I will bow to your wishes with my usual sweet docility.

I’m engaged at odd moments with the Life and Letters of Thomas Huxley—­ it makes nice, light reading to pick up between times.  Do you know what an archaeopteryx is?  It’s a bird.  And a stereognathus?  I’m not sure myself, but I think it’s a missing link, like a bird with teeth or a lizard with wings.  No, it isn’t either; I’ve just looked in the book.  It’s a mesozoic mammal.

I’ve elected economics this year—­very illuminating subject.  When I finish that I’m going to take Charity and Reform; then, Mr. Trustee, I’ll know just how an orphan asylum ought to be run.  Don’t you think I’d make an admirable voter if I had my rights?  I was twenty-one last week.  This is an awfully wasteful country to throw away such an honest, educated, conscientious, intelligent citizen as I would be. 
Yours always,
Judy