THE JOHN GRIER HOME,

Friday.
My dearest Judy:

You should see what your hundred dollars and Betsy Kindred did to
that dining room!

It's a dazzling dream of yellow paint. Being a north room,
she thought to brighten it; and she has. The walls are
kalsomined buff, with a frieze of little molly cottontails
skurrying around the top. All of the woodwork--tables and
benches included--is a cheerful chrome yellow. Instead of
tablecloths, which we can't afford, we have linen runners, with
stenciled rabbits hopping along their length. Also yellow bowls,
filled at present with pussywillows, but looking forward to
dandelions and cowslips and buttercups. And new dishes, my
dear--white, with yellow jonquils (we think), though they may be
roses; there is no botany expert in the house. Most wonderful
touch of all, we have NAPKINS, the first we have seen in our
whole lives. The children thought they were handkerchiefs and
ecstatically wiped their noses.

To honor the opening of the new room, we had ice-cream and
cake for dessert. It is such a pleasure to see these children
anything but cowed and apathetic, that I am offering prizes for
boisterousness--to every one but Sadie Kate. She drummed on the
table with her knife and fork and sang, "Welcome to dem golden