is cream
material with sprays of wild roses over it. In my corner I have a cot
made up like a couch. One of my pillows is covered with some checked
gingham that "Dawsie" cross-stitched for me. I have a cabinet bookcase
made from an old walnut bedstead that was a relic of the Mountain
Meadow Massacre. Gavotte made it for me. In it I have my few books,
some odds and ends of china, all gifts, and a few fossil curios. For a
floor-covering I have a braided rug of blue and white, made from old
sheets and Jerrine's old dresses. In the center of my room is a square
table made of pine and stained brown. Over it is a table-cover that you
gave me. Against the wall near my bed is my "dresser." It is a box with
shelves and is covered with the same material as my screen. Above it I
have a mirror, but it makes ugly faces at me every time I look into it.
Upon the wall near by is a match-holder that you gave me. It is the
heads of two fisher-folk. The man has lost his nose, but the old lady
still thrusts out her tongue. The material on my screen and "dresser" I
bought for curtains, then decided to use some white crossbar I had. But
I wish I had not, for every time I look at them I think of poor little
Mary Ann Parker.

I am going to make you a cup of tea and wonder if you will see anything
familiar about the teapot. You should, I think, for it is another of
your many gifts to me. Now I feel that you have a fairly good idea of
what my house looks like, on the inside anyway. The magazines and
Jerrine's cards and Mother Goose book came long ago, and Jerrine and I
were both made happy. I wish I could do nice things for you, but all I
can do is to love you.

Your sincere friend,
ELINORE RUPERT.

XV

THE "STOCKING-LEG" DINNER

_February, 1912._

DEAR MRS. CONEY,--

... This time I want to tell you about a "stocking-leg" dinner which I
attended not long ago. It doesn't sound very respectable, but it was
one of the happiest events I ever remember.

Mrs. Louderer was here visiting us, and one afternoon we were all in
the kitchen when Gavotte came skimming along on the first pair of
snowshoes I ever saw. We have had lots of snow this winter, and many of
the hollows and gullies are packed full. Gavotte had no difficulty in
coming, and he had come for the mail and to invite us to a feast of "ze
hose." I could not think what kind of a dinner it could be, and I did
not believe that Mr. Stewart would go, but after Gavott