every one else does!"

And now I come to the most interesting part of your letter--
May you treat me as a perfect friend, and write anything you
like to me, and ask my advice? Why, _of course_ you
may, my child! What else am I good for? But oh, my dear
child-friend, you cannot guess how such words sound to
_me_! That any one should look up to _me_, or
think of asking _my_ advice--well, it makes one feel
humble, I think, rather than proud--humble to remember,
while others think so well of me, what I really _am_,
in myself. "Thou, that teachest another, teachest thou not
thyself?" Well, I won't talk about myself, it is not a
healthy topic. Perhaps it may be true of _any_ two
people, that, if one could see the other through and
through, love would perish. I don't know. Anyhow, I like to
_have_ the love of my child-friends, tho' I know I
don't deserve it. Please write as freely as _ever_ you
like.

I went up to town and fetched Phoebe down here on Friday in
last week; and we spent _most_ of Saturday upon the
beach--Phoebe wading and digging, and "as happy as a bird
upon the wing" (to quote the song she sang when first I saw
her). Tuesday evening brought a telegram to say she was
wanted at the theatre next morning. So, instead of going to
bed, Phoebe packed her things, and we left by the last
train, reaching her home by a quarter to 1 a.m. However,
even four days of sea-air, and a new kind of happiness, did
her good, I think. I am rather lonely now she is gone. She
is a very sweet child, and a thoughtful child, too. It was
very touching to see (we had a little Bible-reading every
day: I tried to remember that my little friend had a soul to
be cared for, as well as a body) the far-away look in her
eyes, when we talked of God and of heaven--as if her angel,
who beholds His face continually, were whispering to her.

Of course, there isn't _much_ companionship possible,
after all, between an old man's mind and a little child's,
but what there is is sweet--and wholesome, I think.

Three letters of his to a child-friend, Miss Kathleen Eschwege, now
Mrs. Round, illustrate one of those friendships which endure: the sort
of friendship that he always longed for, and so often failed to
secure:--

[Illustrations and: Facsimile of a "Looking-Glass
Letter" from Lewis Carroll to Miss E