in a wild Western
way that would shock her reverend father out of a
whole paragraph. Kitty dared her and I must say she
showed pluck--Comanche can go _some_ when he gets
started, and Sarah stayed with him to the finish. But
you can imagine why she wanted to write letters to-day
instead of riding again. You can thank her for the
round robin. There, I've reached the bottom of the
page before I've begun to tell you anything. But the
others will make up for it, I reckon. No more now--I
must save strength for a letter to Aunt Lucinda. Do
hurry and get well and out of quarantine so that you
can write to

"Your devoted
"BLUE BONNET."

"DEAR SUSY AND RUTH: We arrived on Monday evening
after a very pleasant journey. The name of the station
where you get off is Jonah--isn't that odd? We had to
drive twenty miles in a very queer kind of vehicle in
order to reach Blue Bonnet's home, and this letter
will have to go back over the same road in order to
be posted. I think I had better go back to the
beginning and tell you all about our trip from the
time we left Woodford.

"The private car we came in is called The Wanderer and
it is really a pity you could not have shared it with
us. It is much grander than Mrs. Clyde's drawing-room
at home,--the mahogany shone till you could see your
face in it, and wherever there was not mahogany there
was a mirror, and Slivers, the porter, dusted
everything about twenty times a day. If you could see
Slivers I should not have to explain why he is called
by that name. I am sure he is the tallest and slimmest
man I have ever seen. And that is odd, too, for you
always think of them as plump and fat. He is a negro,
you know, and doesn't seem to mind it a bit, but is as
jolly as if he were white and as fat as you think he
ought to be, and sang and played his banjo in the
evenings quite like a civilized person. He waited on
table, too, while the chief--the cook, you
know--prepared our meals in the most cunning little
kitchen you can imagine.

"It was a very interesting trip. Sometimes we would