n Gregory's most careful lettering.

"Dat dar hind letter's got the stumic-ache," said John William Webster,
putting his long finger, black on top and yellow underneath, on the C,
which was rather doubled up.

Nobody thought of the month or the day, and so the letter was considered
dated.

"Now, den," said Gregory, "who's it to?"

"Jist never you mind who's it to," answered Aunt Matilda. "I know, an'
that's enough to know."

"But you've got to put de name on de back," said Aunt Judy, anxiously.

"Dat's so," said Uncle Braddock, with equal anxiety.

"No, I hain't," remarked Aunt Matilda. "I'll tell Ole Miles who to take
it to. Put down for de fus' thing:

"'Ise been thinkin' fur a long time dat I oughter to write about dis
hyar matter, and I s'pose you is the right one to write to.'"

"What matter's dat?" asked Aunt Judy.

"Neber you mind," replied Aunt Matilda.

Slowly and painfully, Gregory printed this sentence, with Dick Ford
close on one side of him; with John William's round, woolly head stuck
almost under his chin; with Uncle Braddock leaning over him from his
chair; and Aunt Judy standing, peering down upon him from behind.

"Dat's wrong," said Dick Ford, noticing that Gregory had written the
last words thus: "rite 1 ter rite 2." "She don't want no figgers."

"What did she say 'em fur, den?" asked Gregory.

"Now, Greg'ry," said Aunt Matilda, "put down dis:

"'I don't want to make no trouble, and I wouldn't do nothin' to
trouble dem chillen; but Ise been a-waitin' a good long while now,
and I been thinkin' I'd better write an' see 'bout it.'"

"What you want to see 'bout?" asked Aunt Judy, quickly.

"Neber you min' what it is," replied Aunt Matilda. "Go on, you Greg'ry,
and put down:

"'Dat money o' mine was reel money, and when I put it in, I thought
I'd git it back ag'in afore dis.'"

"How much was it, Aunt Matilda?" asked Uncle Braddock, while Aunt Judy
opened her eyes and her mouth, simply because she could not open her
ears any wider than they were.

"Dat's none o' your business," replied Aunt Matilda. "Now put down:

"'I 'spect dem telegram fixin's cost a lot o' money, but I don't
'spect it's jist right to take all an ole woman's money to build
'em.'"

"Lor's _ee_!" ejaculated Uncle Braddock, "dat's so!"

"Now you Greg'ry," continued Aunt Matilda, "put down:

"'Ef you write me a letter 'bout dat ar money, you kin giv it to Ole
Miles.'

N