charges."

So far, my poor little charges are not enthusiastic about these new
reforms. They don't care much for the sudden draft of fresh air that has
blown in upon them, or the deluge of water. I am shoving in two baths
a week, and as soon as we collect tubs enough and a few extra faucets,
they are going to get SEVEN.

But at least I have started one most popular reform. Our daily bill
of fare has been increased, a change deplored by the cook as causing
trouble, and deplored by the rest of the staff as causing an immoral
increase in expense. ECONOMY spelt in capitals has been the guiding
principle of this institution for so many years that it has become a
religion. I assure my timid co-workers twenty times a day that, owing to
the generosity of our president, the endowment has been exactly doubled,
and that I have vast sums besides from Mrs. Pendleton for necessary
purposes like ice cream. But they simply CAN'T get over the feeling that
it is a wicked extravagance to feed these children.

The doctor and I have been studying with care the menus of the past, and
we are filled with amazement at the mind that could have devised them.
Here is one of her frequently recurring dinners:

BOILED POTATOES BOILED RICE BLANC MANGE

It's a wonder to me that the children are anything more than one hundred
and eleven little lumps of starch.

Looking about this institution, one is moved to misquote Robert
Browning.

"There may be heaven; there must be hell;
Meantime, there is the John Grier--well!"
S. McB.

THE JOHN GRIER HOME,

Saturday.

Dear Judy:

Dr. Robin MacRae and I fought another battle yesterday over a very
trivial matter (in which I was right), and since then I have adopted for
our doctor a special pet name. "Good morning, Enemy!" was my greeting
today, at which he was quite solemnly annoyed. He says he does not wish
to be regarded as an enemy. He is not in the least antagonistic--so long
as I mold my policy upon his wishes!

We have two new children, Isador Gutschneider and Max Yog, given to us
by the Baptist Ladies' Aid Society. Where on earth do you suppose those
children picked up such a religion? I didn't want to take them, but the
poor ladies were very persuasive, and they pay the princely sum of four
dollars and fifty cents per week per child. This makes 113, which makes
us very crowded. I have half a dozen babies to give away. Find me some
kind families who want to adopt.

You know