child
every day. When I came I was going on eleven and now I'm almost going
on twelve, for my birthday is in two months. Aunt Kate doesn't know
I'm writing to you. Neither does Uncle Larry. I thought of it all
myself when I heard Uncle Larry tell Aunt Kate you were going to take
his job away if I lived with them. I know I shouldn't have listened,
but I did. Perhaps you've never been an orphan and don't know what it
means to have all your parents in Heaven when Gladys Evans has
twenty-seven relations here on earth. But I shall be much obliged if
you won't take Uncle Larry's job away from him and if you'll let me
live with him. God bless you and me.

Your obedient servant and friend,
MARY ROSE CROCKER.

It was a long letter and quite covered two sheets of Kewpie paper.
There were many blots and more misspelled words. Mary Rose frowned as
she looked at it. It was the best she could do. She was uncertain how
to get it to the owner and she did not wish to ask her uncle. Mr.
Jerry could tell her. He knew everything. And holding the closely
written sheets in her hand she ran across the alley.

Fortunately Mr. Jerry was alone under the apple tree. She handed him
the letter and watched his face anxiously while he read it.

"Is it all right?" she begged. She had George Washington cuddled in
her arms and hid her face against his soft fur coat as she asked. "I
know the words aren't spelled right but I'm only in the sixth grade.
Perhaps I should have put that in? But is the meaning right?"

Mr. Jerry coughed twice before he answered. "Just right, Mary Rose.
Exactly right! I couldn't have done it better and I've been to
college. Write on the envelope: 'To the Owner of the Washington' and
I'll take it over to the agents myself."

"Oh, will you!" Mary Rose had been puzzled how to get it to the
agents. She decided then and there that she would never be puzzled
over anything again. Mr. Jerry could do everything. First he had
taken her cat and then her dog and her friend from Mifflin and now her
letter. Her heart was filled with a passionate devotion to him as she
laughed tremulously. She was both proud and happy to possess such a
resourceful friend. "Don't you think Mr. Owner sounds a little more
respectful? You see," her voice shook, for it meant so much to her, "I
don't know him at all. I've never had any chance to make friends with
him."

With Mr. Jerry's fountain pen she wrote carefully