that haven't the slightest resemblance to human children. And
oh, the dreadful institution smell! A mingling of wet scrubbed
floors, unaired rooms, and food for a hundred people always
steaming on the stove.

The asylum not only has to be made over, but every child as
well, and it's too herculean a task for such a selfish,
luxurious, and lazy person as Sallie McBride ever to have
undertaken. I'm resigning the very first moment that Judy can
find a suitable successor, but that, I fear, will not be
immediately. She has gone off South, leaving me stranded, and of
course, after having promised, I can't simply abandon her
asylum. But in the meantime I assure you that I'm homesick.

Write me a cheering letter, and send a flower to brighten my
private drawing room. I inherited it, furnished, from Mrs.
Lippett. The wall is covered with a tapestry paper in brown and
red; the furniture is electric-blue plush, except the center
table, which is gilt. Green predominates in the carpet. If you
presented some pink rosebuds, they would complete the color
scheme.

I really was obnoxious that last evening, but you are
avenged.

Remorsefully yours,

SALLIE McBRIDE.

P.S. You needn't have been so grumpy about the Scotch doctor.