Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Did you ever see this campus? (That is merely a rhetorical question.
Don\'t let it annoy you.) It is a heavenly spot in May. All the
shrubs are in blossom and the trees are the loveliest young green--
even the old pines look fresh and new. The grass is dotted with yellow
dandelions and hundreds of girls in blue and white and pink dresses.
Everybody is joyous and carefree, for vacation\'s coming, and with
that to look forward to, examinations don\'t count.

Isn\'t that a happy frame of mind to be in? And oh, Daddy!
I\'m the happiest of all! Because I\'m not in the asylum any more;
and I\'m not anybody\'s nursemaid or typewriter or bookkeeper (I
should have been, you know, except for you).

I\'m sorry now for all my past badnesses.

I\'m sorry I was ever impertinent to Mrs. Lippett.

I\'m sorry I ever slapped Freddie Perkins.

I\'m sorry I ever filled the sugar bowl with salt.

I\'m sorry I ever made faces behind the Trustees\' backs.

I\'m going to be good and sweet and kind to everybody because I\'m
so happy. And this summer I\'m going to write and write and write
and begin to be a great author. Isn\'t that an exalted stand
to take? Oh, I\'m developing a beautiful character! It droops
a bit under cold and frost, but it does grow fast when the sun shines.

That\'s the way with everybody. I don\'t agree with the theory that
adversity and sorrow and disappointment develop moral strength.
The happy people are the ones who are bubbling over with kindliness.
I have no faith in misanthropes. (Fine word! Just learned it.)
You are not a misanthrope are you, Daddy?

I started to tell you about the campus. I wish you\'d come
for a little visit and let me walk you about and say:

`That is the library. This is the gas plant, Daddy dear.
The Gothic building on your left is the gymnasium, and the Tudor
Romanesque beside it is the new infirmary.\'

Oh, I\'m fine at showing people about. I\'ve done it all my life at
the asylum, and I\'ve been doing it all day here. I have honestly.

And a Man, too!

That\'s a great experience. I never talked to a man before (except
occasional Trustees, and they don\'t count). Pardon, Daddy, I don\'t
mean to hurt your feelings when I abuse Trustees. I don\'t consider
that you really belong among them. You just tumbled on to the Board
by chance. The Trustee, as such, is fat and pompous and benevolent.
He pats one on the head and wears a gold watch chain.

That looks like a June bug, but is meant to be a portrait of any
Trustee except you.

However--to resume:

I have been walking and talking and having tea with a man.
And with a very superior man--with Mr. Jervis Pendleton of the House
of Julia; her uncle, in short (in long, perhaps I ought to say;
he\'s as tall as you.) Being in town on busi............