I really believe I've finished, Daddy. Nothing else occurs to me
at the moment--I'll try to write a longer letter next time.
Yours always,
Judy


PS. The lettuce hasn't done at all well this year. It was so dry
early in the season.


25th August

Well, Daddy, Master Jervie's here. And such a nice time as
we're having! At least I am, and I think he is, too--he has been
here ten days and he doesn't show any signs of going. The way
Mrs. Semple pampers that man is scandalous. If she indulged him
as much when he was a baby, I don't know how he ever turned out so well.

He and I eat at a little table set on the side porch, or sometimes
under the trees, or--when it rains or is cold--in the best parlour.
He just picks out the spot he wants to eat in and Carrie trots
after him with the table. Then if it has been an awful nuisance,
and she has had to carry the dishes very far, she finds a dollar
under the sugar bowl.

He is an awfully companionable sort of man, though you would never
believe it to see him casually; he looks at first glance like a
true Pendleton, but he isn't in the least. He is just as simple
and unaffected and sweet as he can be--that seems a funny way