Dear Enemy [30]
about like a caged woodchuck, launched into a tirade about silly Sunday-school notions, and, by a transition which I did not grasp, passed to a review of the general subject of woman's suffrage. I gathered that he is not in favor of the movement. I let him argue himself quiet, then I handed him a check for his wages, and told him to vacate the tenant house by twelve o'clock next Wednesday.
Sterry says he'll be danged if he will. (Excuse so many DANGEDS. It is the creature's only adjective.) He was engaged to work for this institution by the president of the board of trustees, and he will not move from that house until the president of the board of trustees tells him to go. I don't think poor Sterry realizes that since his arrival a new president has come to the throne.
ALORS you have the story. I make no threats, but Sterry or McBride--take your choice, dear sir.
I am also about to write to the head of the Massachusetts Agricultural College, at Amherst, asking him to recommend a good, practical man with a nice, efficient, cheerful wife, who will take the entire care of our modest domain of seventeen acres, and who will be a man with the right personality to place over our boys.
If we get the farming end of this institution into running shape, it ought to furnish not only beans and onions for the table, but education for our hands and brains.
I remain, sir, Yours most truly, S. McBRIDE, Superintendent of the John Grier Home.
P.S. I think that Sterry will probably come back some night and throw rocks through the windows. Shall I have them insured?
My dear Enemy:
You disappeared so quickly this afternoon that I had no chance to thank you, but the echoes of that discharge penetrated as far as my library. Also, I have viewed the debris. What on earth did you do to poor Sterry? Watching the purposeful set of your shoulders as you strode toward the carriage house, I was filled with sudden compunction. I did not want the man murdered, merely reasoned with. I am afraid you were a little harsh.
However, your technic seems to have been effective. Report says that he has telephoned for a moving wagon and that Mrs. Sterry is even now on her hands and knees ripping up the parlor carpet.
For this relief much thanks.
SALLIE McBRIDE.
April 26. Dear Jervis:
Your vigorous telegram was, after all, not needed. Dr. Robin MacRae, who is a grand PAWKY mon when it comes to a fight, accomplished the business with beautiful directness. I was so bubbling with rage that immediately after writing to you I called up the doctor on the telephone, and rehearsed the whole business over again. Now, our Sandy, whatever his failings (and he has them), does have an uncommon supply of common sense. He knows how useful those gardens are going to be, and how worse than useless Sterry was. Also says he, "The superintendent's authority must be upheld." (That, incidentally, is beautiful, coming from him.) But anyway, those were his words. And he hung up the receiver, cranked up his car, and flew up here at lawless speed. He marched straight to Sterry, impelled by a fine Scotch rage, and he discharged the man with such vigor and precision, that the carriage house window was shattered to fragments.
Since this morning at eleven, when Sterry's wagonload of furniture rumbled out of the gates, a sweet peace has reigned over the J. G. H. A man from the village is helping us out while we hopefully await the farmer of our dreams.
I am sorry to have troubled you with our troubles. Tell Judy that she owes me a letter, and won't hear from until she has paid it. Your ob'd't servant,
S. McBRIDE.
Dear Judy:
In my letter of yesterday to Jervis I forgotted (Punch's word) to convey to you our thanks for three tin bathtubs. The skyblue tub with poppies
Sterry says he'll be danged if he will. (Excuse so many DANGEDS. It is the creature's only adjective.) He was engaged to work for this institution by the president of the board of trustees, and he will not move from that house until the president of the board of trustees tells him to go. I don't think poor Sterry realizes that since his arrival a new president has come to the throne.
ALORS you have the story. I make no threats, but Sterry or McBride--take your choice, dear sir.
I am also about to write to the head of the Massachusetts Agricultural College, at Amherst, asking him to recommend a good, practical man with a nice, efficient, cheerful wife, who will take the entire care of our modest domain of seventeen acres, and who will be a man with the right personality to place over our boys.
If we get the farming end of this institution into running shape, it ought to furnish not only beans and onions for the table, but education for our hands and brains.
I remain, sir, Yours most truly, S. McBRIDE, Superintendent of the John Grier Home.
P.S. I think that Sterry will probably come back some night and throw rocks through the windows. Shall I have them insured?
My dear Enemy:
You disappeared so quickly this afternoon that I had no chance to thank you, but the echoes of that discharge penetrated as far as my library. Also, I have viewed the debris. What on earth did you do to poor Sterry? Watching the purposeful set of your shoulders as you strode toward the carriage house, I was filled with sudden compunction. I did not want the man murdered, merely reasoned with. I am afraid you were a little harsh.
However, your technic seems to have been effective. Report says that he has telephoned for a moving wagon and that Mrs. Sterry is even now on her hands and knees ripping up the parlor carpet.
For this relief much thanks.
SALLIE McBRIDE.
April 26. Dear Jervis:
Your vigorous telegram was, after all, not needed. Dr. Robin MacRae, who is a grand PAWKY mon when it comes to a fight, accomplished the business with beautiful directness. I was so bubbling with rage that immediately after writing to you I called up the doctor on the telephone, and rehearsed the whole business over again. Now, our Sandy, whatever his failings (and he has them), does have an uncommon supply of common sense. He knows how useful those gardens are going to be, and how worse than useless Sterry was. Also says he, "The superintendent's authority must be upheld." (That, incidentally, is beautiful, coming from him.) But anyway, those were his words. And he hung up the receiver, cranked up his car, and flew up here at lawless speed. He marched straight to Sterry, impelled by a fine Scotch rage, and he discharged the man with such vigor and precision, that the carriage house window was shattered to fragments.
Since this morning at eleven, when Sterry's wagonload of furniture rumbled out of the gates, a sweet peace has reigned over the J. G. H. A man from the village is helping us out while we hopefully await the farmer of our dreams.
I am sorry to have troubled you with our troubles. Tell Judy that she owes me a letter, and won't hear from until she has paid it. Your ob'd't servant,
S. McBRIDE.
Dear Judy:
In my letter of yesterday to Jervis I forgotted (Punch's word) to convey to you our thanks for three tin bathtubs. The skyblue tub with poppies