“I told you in my last about Johnnie’s going to school with me now.  She is very proud of it, and is always talking about ’Elsie’s and my school.’  She is twice as smart as the other girls of her age.  Miss McCrane has put her into the composition class, where they write compositions on their slates.  The first subject was, ‘A Kitten;’ and John’s began, ’She’s a dear, little, soft scratching thing, only you’d better not pull her by the tail, but she’s real cunning.’  All the girls laughed, and Johnnie called out, ‘Well, it’s true, anyhow.’

“I can’t write any more, for I must study my Latin.  Beside, this is the longest letter that ever was.  I have been four days writing it.  Please send me one just as long.  Old Mary and the children send lots of love, and papa says, ’Tell Katy if a pudding diet sets her to growing again she must come home at once, for he couldn’t afford it.’  Oh, dear, how I wish I could see you!  Please give my love to Rose Red.  She must be perfectly splendid. 
                            “Your affectionate
          
                                   Elsie.”

“Oh, the dear little duck!  Isn’t that just like her?” said Clover.  “I think Elsie has a real genius for writing, don’t you?  She tells all the little things, and is so droll and cunning.  Nobody writes such nice letters.  Who’s that from, Katy?”

“Cousin Helen, and it’s been such a long time coming.  Just look at this date!  September 22, a whole month ago!” Then she began to read.

“Dear Katy,—­It seems a long time since we have had a talk, but I have been less well lately, so that it has been difficult to write.  Yesterday I sat up for the first time in several weeks, and to-day I am dressed and beginning to feel like myself.  I wish you could see my room this morning,—­I often wish this,—­but it is so particularly pretty, for little Helen has been in with a great basket full of leaves and flowers, and together we have dressed it to perfection.  There are four vases of roses, a bowl full of chrysanthemums, and red leaves round all my pictures.  The leaves are Virginia creeper.  It doesn’t last long, but is lovely while it lasts.  Helen also brought a bird’s nest which the gardener found in a hawthorn-tree on the lawn.  It hangs on a branch, and she has tied it to one side of my bookshelves.  On the opposite side is another nest quite different,—­a great, gray hornets’ nest, as big as a band-box, which came from the mountains a year ago.  I wonder if any such grow in the woods about Hillsover.  In spite of the red leaves, the day is warm as summer, and the windows stand wide open.  I suppose it is cooler with you, but I know it is delicious cold.  Now that I think of it, you must be in Ashburn by this time.  I hope you will enjoy every moment of your vacation.