dear daddy-long-legs,

where are you, i wonder?

i never know what part of the world you are in, but i hope you're

not in new york during this awful weather. i hope you're on a

mountain peak (but not in switzerland; somewhere nearer) looking at

the snow and thinking about me. please be thinking about me.

i'm quite lonely and i want to be thought about. oh, daddy, i wish

i knew you! then when we were unhappy we could cheer each other up.

i don't think i can stand much more of lock willow. i'm thinking

of moving. sallie is going to do settlement work in boston

next winter. don't you think it would be nice for me to go with her,

then we could have a studio together? i would write while she

settled and we could be together in the evenings. evenings are

very long when there's no one but the semples and carrie and amasai

to talk to. i know in advance that you won't like my studio idea.

i can read your secretary's letter now:

`miss jerusha abbott.

`dear madam,

`mr. smith prefers that you remain at lock willow.

`yours truly,

`elmer h. griggs.'

i hate your secretary. i am certain that a man named elmer h.

griggs must be horrid. but truly, daddy, i think i shall have to go

to boston. i can't stay here. if something doesn't happen soon,

i shall throw myself into the silo pit out of sheer desperation.

mercy! but it's hot. all the grass is burnt up and the brooks are

dry and the roads are dusty. it hasn't rained for weeks and weeks.

this letter sounds as though i had hydrophobia, but i haven't. i

just want some family.

goodbye, my dearest daddy.

i wish i knew you.

judy