omething; that new clothes might be sent her from somewhere,
she felt so ashamed in her dirty old shabby ones. She asked for boots
and shoes and gloves, and for help with her lessons; and, when she had
no special petition to offer, she would ejaculate at intervals, "Lord,
send me good luck!" But, however great the variety of her daily wants,
one prayer went up with the others always, "Lord, let me write well!"
meaning, let me write a good hand; yet her writing did not improve,
and she was much disheartened about it. She took the Lord into her
confidence on the subject very frankly. When she had been naughty, and
was not found out and punished, she thanked Him for His goodness; but
why would He not let her write well? She asked Him the question again
and again, lifting her grey eyes to the grey sky pathetically; and all
the time, though she never suspected it, she was learning to write
more than well, but in a very different sense of the word.

Her note to Sammy was as follows:--

DEAR SAMMY,--Come and talk to me. Do not be afrade. I do
not mind rows, being always in them. And she can't do
anything to you. I miss you. I want to tell you things.
Such nice things keep coming to me. They make me feel all
comfortable inside. I looked out of the window in the
dark last night. There was a frost. The sky was dark dark
blue like sailor's suits only bright and the stars looked
like holes bored in the floor of heaven to let the light
through. It was so white and bright it must have been the
light of heaven. I never saw such light on earth.
Sunshine is more buffy. Do come Sammy I want you so Beth.
P.S. I can't stop right yet; but I'm trying. It seems
rather difficult to stop: but nobody can write without
stops. I always look at stops in books when I read but
sometimes you put a coma and sometimes a semicollon. I
expect you know but I don't so you must teach me. Its so
nice writing things down. Come to the back gait tonight.

When the letter was written in queer, crabbed characters, on one side
of a half-sheet of paper, then folded so that she could write the
address on the other side, because she had no envelope--she wondered
how she should get it delivered. There was a coolness between her and
Harriet. Beth resented the coarse insinuation about having a
sweetheart, and shrank from hearing any more remarks of a like nature
on the subject. And s