"Well, let me take you home through the garden then--and, yes, I believe
I'll stay to break a muffin with Mrs. Henderson. Don't you want to tell
me what a little girl like you did in a big city and--and read me part
of that London letter I saw the postman give Judy this afternoon?"

Again I ask myself the question why his friendliness to Alfred Bennett's
letters always makes me so instantly cross.




LEAF FOURTH

SCATTERED JAM


Sleep is one of the most delightful and undervalued amusements known
to the human race. I have never had enough yet and every second of time
that I'm not busy with something interesting I curl up on the bed and
go dream hunting--only I sleep too hard to do much catching. But this
torture book found that out on me and stopped it the very first thing on
page three. The command is to sleep as little as possible to keep the
nerves in a good condition,--"eight hours at the most and seven would
be better." What earthly good would a seven-hour nap do me? I want ten
hours to sleep and twelve if I get a good tired start. To see me stagger
out of my perfectly nice bed at six o'clock every morning now would
wring the sternest heart with compassion and admiration at my
faithfulness--to whom?

Yes, it was the day after poor Mr. Carter's funeral that Aunt Adeline