按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
June 19th。 My dearest Judy：
Listen to the grandest innovation of all； and one that will delight your heart。
NO MORE BLUE GINGHAM！
Feeling that this aristocratic neighborhood of country estates might contain valuable food for our asylum； I have of late been moving in the village social circles； and at a luncheon yesterday I dug out a beautiful and charming widow who wears delectable； flowing gowns that she designs herself。 She confided to me that she would have loved to have been a dressmaker； if she had only been born with a needle in her mouth instead of a golden spoon。 She says she never sees a pretty girl badly dressed but she longs to take her in hand and make her over。 Did you ever hear anything so apropos？ From the moment she opened her lips she was a marked man。
〃I can show you fifty…nine badly dressed girls；〃 said I to her； and you have got to come back with me and plan their new clothes and make them beautiful。〃
She expostulated； but in vain。 I led her out to her automobile； shoved her in； and murmured； 〃John Grier Home〃 to the chauffeur。 The first inmate our eyes fell upon was Sadie Kate； just fresh； I judge； from hugging the molasses barrel； and a shocking spectacle she was for any esthetically minded person。 In addition to the stickiness； one stocking was coming down； her pinafore was buttoned crookedly； and she had lost a hair…ribbon。 Butas alwayscompletely at ease； she welcomed us with a cheery grin； and offered the lady a sticky paw。
〃Now；〃 said I； in triumph； 〃you see how much we need you。 What can you do to make Sadie Kate beautiful？〃
〃Wash her；〃 said Mrs。 Livermore。
Sadie Kate was marched to my bathroom。 When the scrubbing was finished and the hair strained back and the stocking restored to seemly heights； I returned her for a second inspectiona perfectly normal little orphan。 Mrs。 Livermore turned her from side to side； and studied her long and earnestly。
Sadie Kate by nature is a beauty； a wild； dark； Gypsyish little colleen。 She looks fresh from the wind…swept moors of Connemara。 But； oh； we have managed to rob her of her birthright with this awful institution uniform！
After five minutes' silent contemplation； Mrs。 Livermore raised her eyes to mine。
〃Yes； my dear； you need me。〃
And then and there we formed our plans。 She is to head the committee on C L O T H E S。 She is to choose three friends to help her。 And they； with the two dozen best sewers among the girls and our sewing…teacher and five sewing machines； are going to make over the looks of this institution。 And the charity is all on our side。 We are supplying Mrs。 Livermore with the profession that Providence robbed her of。 Wasn't it clever of me to find her？ I woke this morning at dawn and crowed！
Lots more news；I could run into a second volume；but I am going to send this letter to town by Mr。 Witherspoon； who； in a very high collar and the blackest of evening clothes； is on the point of departure for a barn dance at the country club。 I told him to pick out the nicest girls he danced with to come and tell stories to my children。
It is dreadful； the scheming person I am getting to be。 All the time I am talking to any one； I am silently thinking； 〃What use can you be to my asylum？〃
There is grave danger that this present superintendent will become so interested in her job that she will never want to leave。 I sometimes picture her a white…haired old lady； propelled about the building in a wheeled chair； but still tenaciously superintending her fourth generation of orphans。
PLEASE discharge her before that day！
Yours；
SALLIE。
Friday。 Dear Judy：
Yesterday morning； without the slightest warning； a station hack drove up to the door and disgorged upon the steps two men； two little boys； a baby girl； a rocking horse； and a Teddy bear； and then drove off！
The men were artists； and the little ones were children of another artist； dead three weeks ago。 They had brought the mites to us because they thought 〃John Grier〃 sounded solid and respectable； and not like a public institution。 It had never entered their unbusinesslike heads that any formality is necessary about placing a child in an asylum。
I explained that we were full； but they seemed so stranded and aghast； that I told them to sit down while I advised them what to do。 So the chicks were sent to the nursery； with a recommendation of bread and milk； while I listened to their history。 Those artists had a fatally literary touch； or maybe it was just the sound of the baby girl's laugh； but； anyway； before they had finished； the babes were ours。
Never have I seen a sunnier creature than the little Allegra （we don't often get such fancy names or such fancy children）。 She is three years old； is lisping funny baby talk and bubbling with laughter。 The tragedy she has just emerged from has never touched her。 But Don and Clifford； sturdy little lads of five and seven； are already solemn…eyed and frightened at the hardness of life。
Their mother was a kindergarten teacher who married an artist on a capital of enthusiasm and a few tubes of paint。 His friends say that he had talent； but of course he had to throw it away to pay the milkman。 They lived in a haphazard fashion in a rickety old studio； cooking behind screens； the babies sleeping on shelves。
But there seems to have been a very happy side to ita great deal of love and many friends； all more or less poor； but artistic and congenial and high…thinking。 The little lads； in their gentleness and fineness； show that phase of their upbringing。 They have an air which many of my children； despite all the good manners I can pour into them； will forever lack。
The mother died in the hospital a few days after Allegra's birth； and the father struggled on for two years； caring for his brood and painting like madadvertisements； anythingto keep a roof over their heads。
He died in St。 Vincent's three weeks ago；overwork； worry； pneumonia。 His friends rallied about the babies； sold such of the studio fittings as had escaped pawning； paid off the debts； and looked about for the best asylum they could find。 And； Heaven save them！ they hit upon us！
Well； I kept the two artists for luncheon；nice creatures in soft hats and Windsor ties； and looking pretty frayed themselves；and then started them back to New York with the promise that I would give the little family my most parental attention。
So here they are； one little mite in the nursery； two in the kindergarten room； four big packing cases full of canvases in the cellar； and a trunk in the store room with the letters of their father and mother。 And a look in their faces； an intangible spiritual SOMETHING； that is their heritage。
I can't get them out of my mind。 All night long I was planning their future。 The boys are easy。 They have already been graduated from college； Mr。 Pendleton assisting； and are pursuing honorable business careers。 But Allegra I don't know about； I can't think what to wis