out to see that post office."

"Oh, no," said Uncle Steve, shaking his head; "you don't care
about post offices and walks in the woods, and drives through the
country. You'd rather slide down an old barn roof, and then lie in
bed for a week."

"Catch me doing it again," said Marjorie, shaking her head
decidedly; "and now, Uncle, suppose we open these letters."

"Why, that wouldn't be a bad idea. Here's a paper-cutter. Let's
open one at a time, they'll last longer. Suppose you read this one
first."

Marjorie opened the first letter, and quickly turned the page to
see the signature.

"Why, Uncle Steve," she cried, "this is signed Ned and Dick! I
didn't know horses could write letters."

"There are a great many things, my child, that you don't know yet.
And so Ned and Dick have written to you! Now that's very kind of
them. Read me what they say."

In great glee, Marjorie read aloud:

"DEAR MARJORIE:
It is too bad
For you to act this way;
Just think what fun we might have had