Goodbye, Daddy.  I must call on Harriet Martin now,
and, having discussed the chemical situation,
casually drop a few thoughts on the subject of our next president. 
                       Yours in politics,
                                           J. Abbott

17th October
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Supposing the swimming tank in the gymnasium were filled full of lemon jelly, could a person trying to swim manage to keep on top or would he sink?

We were having lemon jelly for dessert when the question came up.  We discussed it heatedly for half an hour and it’s still unsettled.  Sallie thinks that she could swim in it, but I am perfectly sure that the best swimmer in the world would sink.  Wouldn’t it be funny to be drowned in lemon jelly?

Two other problems are engaging the attention of our table.

1st.  What shape are the rooms in an octagon house?  Some of the girls insist that they’re square; but I think they’d have to be shaped like a piece of pie.  Don’t you?

2nd.  Suppose there were a great big hollow sphere made of looking-glass and you were sitting inside.  Where would it stop reflecting your face and begin reflecting your back?  The more one thinks about this problem, the more puzzling it becomes.  You can see with what deep philosophical reflection we engage our leisure!

Did I ever tell you about the election?  It happened three weeks ago, but so fast do we live, that three weeks is ancient history.  Sallie was elected, and we had a torchlight parade with transparencies saying, `McBride for Ever,’ and a band consisting of fourteen pieces (three mouth organs and eleven combs).

We’re very important persons now in `258.’  Julia and I come in for a great deal of reflected glory.  It’s quite a social strain to be living in the same house with a president.

Bonne nuit, cher Daddy. 
                       Acceptez mez compliments,
                           Tres respectueux,
                               je suis,
                                   Votre Judy

12th November
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

We beat the Freshmen at basket ball yesterday.  Of course we’re pleased—­ but oh, if we could only beat the juniors!  I’d be willing to be black and blue all over and stay in bed a week in a witch-hazel compress.

Sallie has invited me to spend the Christmas vacation with her.  She lives in Worcester, Massachusetts.  Wasn’t it nice of her?  I shall love to go.  I’ve never been in a private family in my life, except at Lock Willow, and the Semples were grown-up and old and don’t count.  But the McBrides have a houseful of children (anyway two or three) and a mother and father and grandmother, and an Angora cat.  It’s a perfectly complete family!  Packing your trunk and going away is more fun than staying behind.  I am terribly excited at the prospect.