en't an idea what is the matter with the man. He was friendly
enough last week, but now, if I want an opinion from him, I have to
send Percy to extract it. I do think that he might see me as the
superintendent of the asylum, even if he doesn't wish our acquaintance
to be on a personal basis. There is no doubt about it, our Sandy is
Scotch!

LATER.

It is going to require a fortune in stamps to get this letter to
Jamaica, but I do want you to know all the news, and we have never had
so many exhilarating things happen since 1876, when we were founded.
This fire has given us such a shock that we are going to be more alive
for years to come. I believe that every institution ought to be
burned to the ground every twenty-five years in order to get rid of
old-fashioned equipment and obsolete ideas. I am superlatively glad
now that we didn't spend Jervis's money last summer; it would have been
intensively tragic to have had that burn. I don't mind so much about
John Grier's, since he made it in a patent medicine which, I hear,
contained opium.

As to the remnant of us that the fire left behind, it is already boarded
up and covered with tar-paper, and we are living along quite comfortably
in our portion of a house. It affords sufficient room for the staff and
the children's dining room and kitchen, and more permanent plans can be
made later.

Do you perceive what has happened to us? The good Lord has heard my
prayer, and the John Grier Home is a cottage institution!

I am,

The busiest person north of the equator,

S. McBRIDE.

THE JOHN GRIER HOME,

January 16.

Dear Gordon:

Please, please behave yourself, and don't make things harder than they
are. It's absolutely out of the question for me to give up the asylum
this instant. You ought to realize that I can't abandon my chicks just
when they are so terribly in need of me. Neither am I ready to drop
this blasted philanthropy. (You can see how your language looks in my
handwriting!)

You have no cause to worry. I am not overworking. I am enjoying it;
never was so busy and happy in my life. The papers made the fire out
much more lurid than it really was. That picture of me leaping from
the roof with a baby under each arm was overdrawn. One or two of the
children have sore throats, and our poor doctor is in a plaster cast.
But we're all alive, thank Heaven! and are going to pull through without
permanent scars.

I can't write details now; I'm simply rus