you one.

This morning I had to teach Sunday School. I'll be praying in public
next. I see it coming. The lesson was "The Prodigal Son", a subject
on which I ought to be qualified to speak. The Japanese youths
understood about one word out of three, but they were giving me close
attention. I was expounding with all the earnestness in me when
suddenly I remembered a picture Jack used to have. It was of a lean
little calf tearing down the road, while in the distance was coming a
lazy looking tramp. Underneath was the legend:

"Run, bossy, run,
Here comes the Prodigal Son."

That settled my sermon, so I told the boys a bear story instead.

How I should love to drop in on you to-night and sit on the floor
before the fire and pow-wow! I'll be an awful back number when I come
home, but just think how entertaining I'll be! I have enough good
dinner stories to last through the rest of my life!

For heaven's sake send me some hat pins, nice long ones with pretty
heads. And if you are in New York this winter please get me two
bottles of that violet extract that I always use.

My dearest love to all, and a hundred kisses to the blessed children
at home Don't you _dare_ let them forget me.