Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Behold me--a Sophomore! I came up last Friday, sorry to leave Lock Willow, but glad to see the campus again. It is a pleasant sensation to come back to something familiar. I am beginning to feel at home in college, and in command of the situation; I am beginning, in fact, to feel at home in the world--as though I really belonged to it and had not just crept in on sufferance.

I don't suppose you understand in the least what I am trying to say. A person important enough to be a Trustee can't appreciate the feelings of a person unimportant enough to be a foundling.

And now, Daddy, listen to this. Whom do you think I am rooming with? Sallie McBride and Julia Rutledge Pendleton. It's the truth. We have a study and three little bedrooms--VOILA!

Sallie and I decided last spring that we should like to room together, and Julia made up her mind to stay with Sallie--why, I can't imagine, for they are not a bit alike; but the Pendletons are naturally conservative and inimical (fine word!) to change. Anyway, here we are. Think of Jerusha Abbott, late of the John Grier Home for Orphans, rooming with a Pendleton. This is a democratic country.

Sallie is running for class president, and unless all signs fail, she is going to be elected. Such an atmosphere of intrigue you should see what politicians we are! Oh, I tell you, Daddy, when we women get our rights, you men will have to look alive in order to keep yours. Election comes next Saturday, and we're going to have a torchlight procession in the evening, no matter who wins.

I am beginning chemistry, a most unusual study. I've never seen anything like it before. Molecules and Atoms are the material employed, but I'll be in a position to discuss them more definitely next month.

I am also taking argumentation and logic.

Also history of the whole world.

Also plays of William Shakespeare.

Also French.

If this keeps up many years longer, I shall become quite intelligent.

I should rather have elected economics than French, but I didn't dare, because I was afraid that unless I re-elected French, the Professor would not let me pass--as it was, I just managed to squeeze through the June examination. But I will say that my high-school preparation was not very adequate.

There's one girl in the class who chatters away in French as fast as she does in English. She went abroad with her parents when she was a child, and spent three years in a convent school. You can imagine how bright she is compared with the rest of us--irregular verbs are mere playthings. I wish my parents had chucked me into a French convent when I was little instead of a foundling asylum. Oh no, I don't either! Because then maybe I should never have known you. I'd rather know you than French.

Goodbye, Daddy. I must call on Harriet Martin now, and, having discussed the chemical situation, casually drop a few thoughts on the subject of our next president. Yours in politics, J. Abbott

17th October Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Supposing the swimming tank in the gymnasium were filled full of lemon jelly, could a person trying to swim manage to keep on top or would he sink?

We were having lemon jelly for dessert when the question came up. We discussed it heatedly for half an hour and it's still unsettled. Sallie thinks that she could swim in it, but I am perfectly sure that the best swimmer in the world would sink. Wouldn't it be funny to be drowned in lemon jelly?

Two other problems are engaging the attention of our table.

1st. What shape are the rooms in an octagon house? Some of the girls insist that they're square; but I think they'd have to be shaped like a piece of pie. Don't you?

2nd. Suppose there were a great big hollow sphere made of looking-glass and you were sitting inside. Where would it stop reflecting your face and begin reflecting your back? The more one thinks about this problem, the more puzzling it becomes. You can see with what deep philosophical reflection we engage our leisure!

Did I ever tell you about the election? It happened three weeks ago, but so fast do we live, that three weeks is ancient history. Sallie was elected, and we had a torchlight parade with transparencies saying, 'McBride for Ever,' and a band consisting of fourteen pieces (three mouth organs and eleven combs).

We're very important persons now in '258.' Julia and I come in for a great deal of reflected glory. It's quite a social strain to be living in the same house with a president.

Bonne nuit, cher Daddy. Acceptez mez compliments, Tres respectueux, je suis, Votre Judy

12th November Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

We beat the Freshmen at basket ball yesterday. Of course we're pleased-- but oh, if we could only beat the juniors! I'd be willing to be black and blue all over and stay in bed a week in a witch-hazel compress.

Sallie has invited me to spend the Christmas vacation with her. She lives in Worcester, Massachusetts. Wasn't it nice of her? I shall love to go. I've never been in a private family in my life, except at Lock Willow, and the Semples were grown-up and old and don't count. But the McBrides have a houseful of children (anyway two or three) and a mother and father and grandmother, and an Angora cat. It's a perfectly complete family! Packing your trunk and going away is more fun than staying behind. I am terribly excited at the prospect.

Seventh hour--I must run to rehearsal. I'm to be in the Thanksgiving theatricals. A prince in a tower with a velvet tunic and yellow curls. Isn't that a lark? Yours, J. A.


Do you want to know what I look like? Here's a photograph of all three that Leonora Fenton took.

The light one who is laughing is Sallie, and the tall one with her nose in the air is Julia, and the little one with the hair blowing across her face is Judy--she is really more beautiful than that, but the sun was in her eyes.


31st December Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

I meant to write to you before and thank you for your Christmas cheque, but life in the McBride household is very absorbing, and I don't seem able to find two consecutive minutes to spend at a desk.

I bought a new gown--one that I didn't need, but just wanted. My Christmas present this year is from Daddy-Long-Legs; my family just sent love.

I've been having the most beautiful vacation visiting Sallie. She lives in a big old-fashioned brick house with white trimmings set back from the street--exactly the kind of house that I used to look at so curiously when I was in the John Grier Home, and wonder what it could be like inside. I never expected to see with my own eyes-- but here I am! Everything is so comfortable and restful and homelike; I walk from room to room and drink in the furnishings.

It is the most perfect house for children to be brought up in; with shadowy nooks for hide and seek, and open fire places for pop-corn, and an attic to romp in on rainy days and slippery banisters with a comfortable flat knob at the bottom, and a great big sunny kitchen, and a nice, fat, sunny cook who has lived in the family thirteen years and always saves out a piece of dough for the children to bake. Just the sight of such a house makes you want to be a child all over again.

And as for families! I never dreamed they could be so nice. Sallie has a father and mother and grandmother, and the sweetest three-year-old baby sister all over curls, and a medium-sized brother who always forgets to wipe his feet, and a big, good-looking brother named Jimmie, who is a junior at Princeton.

We have the jolliest times at the table--everybody laughs and jokes and talks at once, and we don't have to say grace beforehand. It's a relief not having to thank Somebody for every mouthful you eat. (I dare say I'm blasphemous; but you'd be, too, if you'd offered as much obligatory thanks as I have.)

Such a lot of things we've done--I can't begin to tell you about them. Mr. McBride owns a factory and Christmas eve he had a tree for the employees' children. It was in the long packing-room which was decorated with evergreens and holly. Jimmie McBride was dressed as Santa Claus and Sallie and I helped him distribute the presents.

Dear me, Daddy, but it was a funny sensation! I felt as benevolent as a Trustee of the John Grier home. I kissed one sweet, sticky little boy--but I don't think I patted any of them on the head!

And two days after Christmas, they gave a dance at their own house for ME.

It was the first really true ball I ever attended--college doesn't count where we dance with girls. I had a new white evening gown (your Christmas present--many thanks) and long white gloves and white satin slippers. The only drawback to my perfect, utter, absolute happiness was the fact that Mrs. Lippett couldn't see me leading the cotillion with Jimmie McBride. Tell her about it, please, the next time you visit the J. G. H. Yours ever, Judy Abbott

PS. Would you be terribly displeased, Daddy, if I didn't turn out to be a Great Author after all, but just a Plain Girl?

6.30, Saturday Dear Daddy,

We started to walk to town today, but mercy! how it poured. I like winter to be winter with snow instead of rain.

Julia's desirable uncle called again this afternoon--and brought a five-pound box of chocolates. There are advantages, you see, about rooming with Julia.

Our innocent prattle appeared to amuse him and he waited for a later train in order to take tea in the study. We had an awful lot of trouble getting permission. It's hard enough entertaining fathers and grandfathers, but uncles are a step worse; and as for brothers and cousins, they are next to impossible. Julia had to swear that he was her uncle before a notary public and then have the county clerk's certificate attached. (Don't I know a lot of law?) And even then I doubt if we could have had our tea if the Dean had chanced to see how youngish and good-looking Uncle Jervis is.

Anyway, we had it, with brown bread Swiss cheese sandwiches. He helped make them and then ate four. I told him that I had spent last summer at Lock Willow, and we had a beautiful gossipy time about the Semples, and the horses and cows and chickens. All the horses that he used to know are dead, except Grover, who was a baby colt at the time of his last visit--and poor Grove now is so old he can just limp about the pasture.

He asked if they still kept doughnuts in a yellow crock with a blue plate over it on the bottom shelf of the pantry--and they do! He wanted to know if there was still a woodchuck's hole under the pile of rocks in the night pasture--and there is! Amasai caught a big, fat, grey one there this summer, the twenty-fifth great-grandson of the one Master Jervis caught when he was a little boy.

I called him 'Master Jervie' to his face, but he didn't appear to be insulted. Julia says she has never seen him so amiable; he's usually pretty unapproachable. But Julia hasn't a bit of tact; and men, I find, require a great deal. They purr if you rub them the right way and spit if you don't. (That isn't a very elegant metaphor. I mean it figuratively.)

We're reading Marie Bashkirtseff's journal. Isn't it amazing? Listen to this: 'Last night I was seized by a fit of despair that found utterance in moans, and that finally drove me to throw the dining-room clock into the sea.'

It makes me almost hope I'm not a genius; they must be very wearing to have about--and awfully destructive to the furniture.

Mercy! how it keeps Pouring. We shall have to swim to chapel tonight. Yours ever, Judy

20th Jan. Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Did you ever have a sweet baby girl who was stolen from the cradle in infancy?

Maybe I am she! If we were in a novel, that would be the denouement, wouldn't it?

It's really awfully queer not to know what one is--sort of exciting and romantic. There are such a lot of possibilities. Maybe I'm not American; lots of people aren't. I may be straight descended from the ancient Romans, or I may be a Viking's daughter, or I may be the child of a Russian exile and belong by rights in a Siberian prison, or maybe I'm a Gipsy--I think perhaps I am. I have a very WANDERING spirit, though I haven't as yet had much chance to develop it.

Do you know about that one scandalous blot in my career the time I ran away from the asylum because they punished me for stealing cookies? It's down in the books free for any Trustee to read. But really, Daddy, what could you expect? When you put a hungry little nine-year girl in the pantry scouring knives, with the cookie jar at her elbow, and go off and leave her alone; and then suddenly pop in again, wouldn't you expect to find her a bit crumby? And then when you jerk her by the elbow and box her ears, and make her leave the table when the pudding comes, and tell all the other children that it's because she's a thief, wouldn't you expect her to run away?

I only ran four miles. They caught me and brought me back; and every day for a week I was tied, like a naughty puppy, to a stake in the back yard while the other children were out at recess.

Oh, dear! There's the chapel bell, and after chapel I have a committee meeting. I'm sorry because I meant to write you a very entertaining letter this time. Auf wiedersehen Cher Daddy, Pax tibi! Judy

PS. There's one thing I'm perfectly sure of I'm not a Chinaman.

4th February Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Jimmie McBride has sent me a Princeton banner as big as one end of the room; I am very grateful to him for remembering me, but I don't know what on earth to do with it. Sallie and Julia won't let me hang it up; our room this year is furnished in red, and you can imagine what an effect we'd have if I added orange and black. But it's such nice, warm, thick felt, I hate to waste it. Would it be very improper to have it made into a bath robe? My old one shrank when it was washed.

I've entirely omitted of late telling you what I am learning, but though you might not imagine it from my letters, my time is exclusively occupied with study. It's a very bewildering matter to get educated in five branches at once.

'The test of true scholarship,' says Chemistry Professor, 'is a painstaking passion for detail.'

'Be careful not to keep your eyes glued to detail,' says History Professor. 'Stand far enough away to get a perspective of the whole.'

You can see with what nicety we have to trim our sails between chemistry and history. I like the historical method best. If I say that William the Conqueror came over in 1492, and Columbus discovered America in 1100 or 1066 or whenever it was, that's a mere detail that the Professor overlooks. It gives a feeling of security and restfulness to the history recitation, that is entirely lacking in chemistry.

Sixth-hour bell--I must go to the laboratory and look into a little matter of acids and salts and alkalis. I've burned a hole as big as a plate in the front of my chemistry apron, with hydrochloric acid. If the theory worked, I ought to be able to neutralize that hole with good strong ammonia, oughtn't I?

Examinations next week, but who's afraid? Yours ever, Judy

5th March Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

There is a March wind blowing, and the sky is filled with heavy, black moving clouds. The crows in the pine trees are making such a clamour! It's an intoxicating, exhilarating, CALLING noise. You want to close your books and be off over the hills to race with the wind.

We had a paper chase last Saturday over five miles of squashy 'cross country. The fox (composed of three girls and a bushel or so of confetti) started half an hour before the twenty-seven hunters. I was one of the twenty-seven; eight dropped by the wayside; we ended nineteen. The trail led over a hill, through a cornfield, and into a swamp where we had to leap lightly from hummock to hummock. of course half of us went in ankle deep. We kept losing the trail, and we wasted twenty-five minutes over that swamp. Then up a hill through some woods and in at a barn window! The barn doors were all locked and the window was up high and pretty small. I don't call that fair, do you?

But we didn't go through; we circumnavigated the barn and picked up the trail where it issued by way of a low shed roof on to the top of a fence. The fox thought he had us there, but we fooled him. Then straight away over two miles of rolling meadow, and awfully hard to follow, for the confetti was getting sparse. The rule is that it must be at the most six feet apart, but they were the longest six feet I ever saw. Finally, after two hours of steady trotting, we tracked Monsieur Fox into the kitchen of Crystal Spring (that's a farm where the girls go in bob sleighs and hay wagons for chicken and waffle suppers) and we found the three foxes placidly eating milk and honey and biscuits. They hadn't thought we would get that far; they were expecting us to stick in the barn window.

Both sides insist that they won. I think we did, don't you? Because we caught them before they got back to the campus. Anyway, all nineteen of us settled like locusts over the furniture and clamoured for honey. There wasn't enough to go round, but Mrs. Crystal Spring (that's our pet name for her; she's by rights a Johnson) brought up a jar of strawberry jam and a can of maple syrup-- just made last week--and three loaves of brown bread.

We didn't get back to college till half-past six--half an hour late for dinner--and we went straight in without dressing, and with perfectly unimpaired appetites! Then we all cut evening chapel, the state of our boots being enough of an excuse.

I never told you about examinations. I passed everything with the utmost ease--I know the secret now, and am never going to fail again. I shan't be able to graduate with honours though, because of that beastly Latin prose and geometry Freshman year. But I don't care. Wot's the hodds so long as you're 'appy? (That's a quotation. I've been reading the English classics.)

Speaking of classics, have you ever read Hamlet? If you haven't, do it right off. It's PERFECTLY CORKING. I've been hearing about Shakespeare all my life, but I had no idea he really wrote so well; I always suspected him of going largely on his reputation.

I have a beautiful play that I invented a long time ago when I first learned to read. I put myself to sleep every night by pretending I'm the person (the most important person) in the book I'm reading at the moment.

At present I'm Ophelia--and such a sensible Ophelia! I keep Hamlet amused all the time, and pet him and scold him and make him wrap up his throat when he has a cold. I've entirely cured him of being melancholy. The King and Queen are both dead--an accident at sea; no funeral necessary--so Hamlet and I are ruling in Denmark without any bother. We have the kingdom working beautifully. He takes care of the governing, and I look after the charities. I have just founded some first-class orphan asylums. If you or any of the other Trustees would like to visit them, I shall be pleased to show you through. I think you might find a great many helpful suggestions. I remain, sir, Yours most graciously, OPHELIA, Queen of Denmark.

24th March, maybe the 25th Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

I don't believe I can be going to Heaven--I am getting such a lot of good things here; it wouldn't be fair to get them hereafter too. Listen to what has happened.

Jerusha Abbott has won the short-story contest (a twenty-five dollar prize) that the Monthly holds every year. And she's a Sophomore! The contestants are mostly Seniors. When I saw my name posted, I couldn't quite believe it was true. Maybe I am going to be an author after all. I wish Mrs. Lippett hadn't given me such a silly name-- it sounds like an author-ess, doesn't it?

Also I have been chosen for the spring dramatics--As You Like It out of doors. I am going to be Celia, own cousin to Rosalind.

And lastly: Julia and Sallie and I are going to New York next Friday to do some spring shopping and stay all night and go to the theatre the next day with 'Master Jervie.' He invited us. Julia is going to stay at home with her family, but Sallie and I are going to stop at the Martha Washington Hotel. Did you ever hear of anything so exciting? I've never been in a hotel in my life, nor in a theatre; except once when the Catholic Church had a festival and invited the orphans, but that wasn't a real play and it doesn't count.

And what do you think we're going to see? Hamlet. Think of that! We studied it for four weeks in Shakespeare class and I know it by heart.

I am so excited over all these prospects that I can scarcely sleep.

Goodbye, Daddy.

This is a very entertaining world. Yours ever, Judy

PS. I've just looked at the calendar. It's the 28th.

Another postscript.

I saw a street car conductor today with one brown eye and one blue. Wouldn't he make a nice villain for a detective story?

7th April Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Mercy! Isn't New York big? Worcester is nothing to it. Do you mean to tell me that you actually live in all that confusion? I don't believe that I shall recover for months from the bewildering effect of two days of it. I can't begin to tell you all the amazing things I've seen; I suppose you know, though, since you live there yourself.

But aren't the streets entertaining? And the people? And the shops? I never saw such lovely things as there are in the windows. It makes you want to devote your life to wearing clothes.

Sallie and Julia and I went shopping together Saturday morning. Julia went into the very most gorgeous place I ever saw, white and gold walls and blue carpets and blue silk curtains and gilt chairs. A perfectly beautiful lady with yellow hair and a long black silk trailing gown came to meet us with a welcoming smile. I thought we were paying a social call, and started to shake hands, but it seems we were only buying hats--at least Julia was. She sat down in front of a mirror and tried on a dozen, each lovelier than the last, and bought the two loveliest of all.

I can't imagine any joy in life greater than sitting down in front of a mirror and buying any hat you choose without having first to consider the price! There's no doubt about it, Daddy; New York would rapidly undermine this fine stoical character which the John Grier Home so patiently built up.

And after we'd finished our shopping, we met Master Jervie at Sherry's. I suppose you've been in Sherry's? Picture that, then picture the dining-room of the John Grier Home with its oilcloth-covered tables, and white crockery that you CAN'T break, and wooden-handled knives and forks; and fancy the way I felt!

I ate my fish with the wrong fork, but the waiter very kindly gave me another so that nobody noticed.

And after luncheon we went to the theatre--it was dazzling, marvellous, unbelievable--I dream about it every night.

Isn't Shakespeare wonderful?

Hamlet is so much better on the stage than when we analyze it in class; I appreciated it before, but now, clear me!

I think, if you don't mind, that I'd rather be an actress than a writer. Wouldn't you like me to leave college and go into a dramatic school? And then I'll send you a box for all my performances, and smile at you across the footlights. Only wear a red rose in your buttonhole, please, so I'll surely smile at the right man. It would be an awfully embarrassing mistake if I picked out the wrong one.

We came back Saturday night and had our dinner in the train, at little tables with pink lamps and negro waiters. I never heard of meals being served in trains before, and I inadvertently said so.

'Where on earth were you brought up?' said Julia to me.

'In a village,' said I meekly, to Julia.

'But didn't you ever travel?' said she to me.

'Not till I came to college, and then it was only a hundred and sixty miles and we didn't eat,' said I to her.

She's getting quite interested in me, because I say such funny things. I try hard not to, but they do pop out when I'm surprised-- and I'm surprised most of the time. It's a dizzying experience, Daddy, to pass eighteen years in the John Grier Home, and then suddenly to be plunged into the WORLD.

But I'm getting acclimated. I don't make such awful mistakes as I did; and I don't feel uncomfortable any more with the other girls. I used to squirm whenever people looked at me. I felt as though they saw right through my sham new clothes to the checked ginghams underneath. But I'm not letting the ginghams bother me any more. Sufficient unto yesterday is the evil thereof.

I forgot to tell you about our flowers. Master Jervie gave us each a big bunch of violets and lilies-of-the-valley. Wasn't that sweet of him? I never used to care much for men--judging by Trustees-- but I'm changing my mind.

Eleven pages--this is a letter! Have courage. I'm going to stop. Yours always, Judy

10th April Dear Mr. Rich-Man,

Here's your cheque for fifty dollars. Thank you very much, but I do not feel that I can keep it. My allowance is sufficient to afford all of the hats that I need. I am sorry that I wrote all that silly stuff about the millinery shop; it's just that I had never seen anything like it before.

However, I wasn't begging! And I would rather not accept any more charity than I have to. Sincerely yours, Jerusha Abbott

11th April

Dearest Daddy,

Will you please forgive me for the letter I wrote you yesterday? After I posted it I was sorry, and tried to get it back, but that beastly mail clerk wouldn't give it back to me.

It's the middle of the night now; I've been awake for hours thinking what a Worm I am--what a Thousand-legged Worm-- and that's the worst I can say! I've closed the door very softly into the study so as not to wake Julia and Sallie, and am sitting up in bed writing to you on paper torn out of my history note-book.

I just wanted to tell you that I am sorry I was so impolite about your cheque. I know you meant it kindly, and I think you're an old dear to take so much trouble for such a silly thing as a hat. I ought to have returned it very much more graciously.

But in any case, I had to return it. It's different with me than with other girls. They can take things naturally from people. They have fathers and brothers and aunts and uncles; but I can't be on any such relations with any one. I like to pretend that you belong to me, just to play with the idea, but of course I know you don't. I'm alone, really--with my back to the wall fighting the world-- and I get sort of gaspy when I think about it. I put it out of my mind, and keep on pretending; but don't you see, Daddy? I can't accept any more money than I have to, because some day I shall be wanting to pay it back, and even as great an author as I intend to be won't be able to face a PERFECTLY TREMENDOUS debt.

I'd love pretty hats and things, but I mustn't mortgage the future to pay for them.

You'll forgive me, won't you, for being so rude? I have an awful habit of writing impulsively when I first think things, and then posting the letter beyond recall. But if I sometimes seem thoughtless and ungrateful, I never mean it. In my heart I thank you always for the life and freedom and independence that you have given me. My childhood was just a long, sullen stretch of revolt, and now I am so happy every moment of the day that I can't believe it's true. I feel like a made-up heroine in a story-book.

It's a quarter past two. I'm going to tiptoe out to post this off now. You'll receive it in the next mail after the other; so you won't have a very long time to think bad of me. Good night, Daddy, I love you always, Judy

4th May Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Field Day last Saturday. It was a very spectacular occasion. First we had a parade of all the classes, with everybody dressed in white linen, the Seniors carrying blue and gold Japanese umbrellas, and the juniors white and yellow banners. Our class had crimson balloons-- very fetching, especially as they were always getting loose and floating off--and the Freshmen wore green tissue-paper hats with long streamers. Also we had a band in blue uniforms hired from town. Also about a dozen funny people, like clowns in a circus, to keep the spectators entertained between events.

Julia was dressed as a fat country man with a linen duster and whiskers and baggy umbrella. Patsy Moriarty (Patrici really. Did you ever hear such a name? Mrs. Lippett couldn't have done better) who is tall and thin was Julia's wife in a absurd green bonnet over one ear. Waves of laughter followed them the whole length of the course. Julia played the part extremely well. I never dreamed that a Pendleton could display so much comedy spirit-- begging Master Jervie' pardon; I don't consider him a true Pendleton though, any more than I consider you a true Trustee.

Sallie and I weren't in the parade because we were entered for the events. And what do you think? We both won! At least in something. We tried for the running broad jump and lost; but Sallie won the pole-vaulting (seven feet three inches) and I won the fifty-yard sprint (eight seconds).

I was pretty panting at the end, but it was great fun, with the whole class waving balloons and cheering and yelling:

What's the matter with Judy Abbott? She's all right. Who's all right? Judy Ab-bott!

That, Daddy, is true fame. Then trotting back to the dressing tent and being rubbed down with alcohol and having a lemon to suck. You see we're very professional. It's a fine thing to win an event for your class, because the class that wins the most gets the athletic cup for the year. The Seniors won it this year, with seven events to their credit. The athletic association gave a dinner in the gymnasium to all of the winners. We had fried soft-shell crabs, and chocolate ice-cream moulded in the shape of basket balls.

I sat up half of last night reading Jane Eyre. Are you old enough, Daddy, to remember sixty years ago? And, if so, did people talk that way?

The haughty Lady Blanche says to the footman, 'Stop your chattering, knave, and do my bidding.' Mr. Rochester talks about the metal welkin when he means the sky; and as for the mad woman who laughs like a hyena and sets fire to bed curtains and tears up wedding veils and BITES--it's melodrama of the purest, but just the same, you read and read and read. I can't see how any girl could have written such a book, especially any girl who was brought up in a churchyard. There's something about those Brontes that fascinates me. Their books, their lives, their spirit. Where did they get it? When I was reading about little Jane's troubles in the charity school, I got so angry that I had to go out and take a walk. I understood exactly how she felt. Having known Mrs. Lippett, I could see Mr. Brocklehurst.

Don't be outraged, Daddy. I am not intimating that the John Grier Home was like the Lowood Institute. We had plenty to eat and plenty to wear, sufficient water to wash in, and a furnace in the cellar. But there was one deadly likeness. Our lives were absolutely monotonous and uneventful. Nothing nice ever happened, except ice-cream on Sundays, and even that was regular. In all the eighteen years I was there I only had one adventure--when the woodshed burned. We had to get up in the night and dress so as to be ready in case the house should catch. But it didn't catch and we went back to bed.

Everybody likes a few surprises; it's a perfectly natural human craving. But I never had one until Mrs. Lippett called me to the office to tell me that Mr. John Smith was going to send me to college. And then she broke the news so gradually that it just barely shocked me.

You know, Daddy, I think that the most necessary quality for any person to have is imagination. It makes people able to put themselves in other people's places. It makes them kind and sympathetic and understanding. It ought to be cultivated in children. But the John Grier Home instantly stamped out the slightest flicker that appeared. Duty was the one quality that was encouraged. I don't think children ought to know the meaning of the word; it's odious, detestable. They ought to do everything from love.

Wait until you see the orphan asylum that I am going to be the head of! It's my favourite play at night before I go to sleep. I plan it out to the littlest detail--the meals and clothes and study and amusements and punishments; for even my superior orphans are sometimes bad.

But anyway, they are going to be happy. I think that every one, no matter how many troubles he may have when he grows up, ought to have a happy childhood to look back upon. And if I ever have any children of my own, no matter how unhappy I may be, I am not going to let them have any cares until they grow up.

(There goes the chapel bell--I'll finish this letter sometime).


When I came in from laboratory this afternoon, I found a squirrel sitting on the tea table helping himself to almonds. These are the kind of callers we entertain now that warm weather has come and the windows stay open--

Saturday morning Perhaps you think, last night being Friday, with no classes today, that I passed a nice quiet, readable evening with the set of Stevenson that I bought with my prize money? But if so, you've never attended a girls' college, Daddy dear. Six friends dropped in to make fudge, and one of them dropped the fudge--while it was still liquid-- right in the middle of our best rug. We shall never be able to clean up the mess.

I haven't mentioned any lessons of late; but we are still having them every day. It's sort of a relief though, to get away from them and discuss life in the large--rather one-sided discussions that you and I hold, but that's your own fault. You are welcome to answer back any time you choose.

I've been writing this letter off and on for three days, and I fear by now vous etes bien bored! Goodbye, nice Mr. Man, Judy

Mr. Daddy-Long-Legs Smith,

SIR: Having completed the study of argumentation and the science of dividing a thesis into heads, I have decided to adopt the following form for letter-writing. It contains all necessary facts, but no unnecessary verbiage.

I. We had written examinations this week in: A. Chemistry. B. History.

II. A new dormitory is being built. A. Its material is: (a) red brick. (b) grey stone. B. Its capacity will be: (a) one dean, five instructors. (b) two hundred girls. (c) one housekeeper, three cooks, twenty waitresses, twenty chambermaids.

III. We had junket for dessert tonight.

IV. I am writing a special topic upon the Sources of Shakespeare's Plays.

V. Lou McMahon slipped and fell this afternoon at basket ball, and she: A. Dislocated her shoulder. B. Bruised her knee.

VI. I have a new hat trimmed with: A. Blue velvet ribbon. B. Two blue quills. C. Three red pompoms.

VII. It is half past nine.

VIII. Good night. Judy


瞧!我已经大二了!上周五回到学校,离开柳树农场很难过,但再次看到校园很开心.回到熟悉的环境令人愉快.学校开始让我感觉像家.我觉得已经开始进入状况.事实上,这个世界开始给我家的感觉 - 好像我真的属于这个世上,而不是偷偷溜进来受苦受难的.



春天的时候莎莉和我决定大二时继续当室友,茱莉亚决定要继续跟莎莉住 - 为什么?我很不解,因为他们两个没有任何共通点.但潘得敦家族生性保守且守旧,不喜欢改变.反正,我们住在一起了.想想看洁若沙爱柏,来自孤儿院的弃儿,现在竟然是潘得敦家族某一成员的室友,这真是一个民主的国家啊!









我原本想选经济学而不是法文,但是我不敢,因为如果我不再选修法文,教授可能不会让我过 - 因为六月的考试我只有低空飞过而已.但我得说我高中时的法文课不是上得的很充份.(注)


班上有一个同学的法文跟英文一样好.她小的时候跟父母出国,曾经在一个修道院学校就学三年.你可以想像和班上其他同学比起来,她是多么的聪明伶俐 - 不规则动词对她而言不过是小玩意儿.真希望我父母当初是把我丢在修道院而不是孤儿院.喔,不,我不要.因为这么一来我就不会认识你了.我宁愿认识你而不是法文.






















肤色较浅在笑的那个是莎莉,鼻子举得高高的高个子是茱莉亚,头发被风吹到脸上的小个子是茱蒂 - 她其实本人比较漂亮,但阳光太刺眼了.




我买了一件长礼服 - 一件我不需要,只是想要的衣服.我今年的耶诞礼物来自长腿叔叔,我的家人只寄来问候而已.

在莎莉家过节是最棒的假期.她家是一栋砖造滚白边的老式屋子,离街有段距离 - 那房子和我当初在孤儿院时想像的房子完全一样,当时的我对屋内的一切充满好奇.没想到竟然可以亲眼看到 - 但是我真的看到了.屋内的一切是那么的舒服悠闲家居.我从一个房间走过一个房间,饥渴的把屋内的一切尽收眼底.




餐桌时光是最美好的 - 每个人都开怀大笑,玩笑不断,而且饭前不用祷告.不用为每一口食物对某人心存感激,真是令人松口气.(我敢说我是渎神的;但是如果你得被迫做出这么多的感谢,我相信你也会的.)

我们做了好多事 - 等不及要告诉你.麦克白先生拥有一间工厂,平安夜那天他为工厂员工的小孩摆出一棵耶诞树,放在长长的包装室,挂满万年青和冬青等装饰.吉米麦克白打扮成耶诞老人,莎莉和我帮忙他发耶诞礼物.

那真是一种奇妙的感觉,Daddy.我觉得自己好像是孤儿院的好心理事.我亲了一个甜美的黏呼呼的小男孩 - 不过我想我没有拍任何一个小孩的头.


那是我第一次参加真正的舞会 - 大学的不算因为我们都和女生跳舞.我穿上新的白色长礼服(你送的耶诞节礼物,多谢)配上白色长手套以及白色丝缎平底鞋.多么完美而绝对的幸福,唯一的缺点是丽柏太太没有看到吉米麦克白带我跳方块舞的样子.下次你去拜访孤儿院时,请务必记得告诉丽柏太太舞会的事.



6:30; 周六



茱莉亚迷人的叔叔今天下午来访 - 而且带来一盒五磅重(注)的巧克力.你瞧,跟茱莉亚当室友也是有好处的.

注:五磅大约是2.27 公斤,应该是蛮大一盒的.


总之我们一起喝了茶,配上瑞士乳酪全麦面包三明治.他帮忙做了三明治,而且吃了四个.我跟他说去年暑假我待在柳树农场,我们开心的聊著山普夫妇,农场的马,牛和鸡.他以前认识的马都死了,除了葛瑞佛以外,他上次去农场时葛瑞佛还是匹小马 - 而现在可怜的葛瑞佛已经老到只能跛着脚在草地踱来踱去了.

他问到山普夫妇是否还在厨房架子底层,放著一个装甜甜圈的黄色瓦罐,盖子是个蓝色盘子 - 他说对了.他想要知道夜间牧场的石头堆下是否还有一个土拨鼠洞 - 他又对了.阿马萨今年夏天抓到的那只肥美的灰色土拨鼠,是哲维少爷小时候抓到的那只的第二十五代孙子.



注:Marie Bashkirtseff (1858-1884) 是出生于乌克兰的苏俄日记作者,艺术家以及雕刻家.得年26,作品多毁于二次大战纳粹之手.

我几乎要希望自己不是天才.当天才一定挺累人的 - 而且还挺会破坏家俱的.







不知道自己从何而来是件很奇怪的事 - 刺激而且浪漫的奇怪,因为有那么多的可能性.也许我不是美国人,很多人都不是啊.我可能是古罗马人的直属后代,或者我是一个维京海盗的女儿,或者我是某个被苏俄放逐的罪犯的小孩,有权拥有我的是一座西伯利亚监狱,或者我是吉普赛人.我有一个非常游荡的灵魂,只是还没有什么机会培养就是了.






PS: 有一点我倒是肯定的,我不是中国人.









第六堂课的钟声 - 我得去实验室仔细瞧瞧酸和塩和碱.我的化学课围裙被我用氯化氢烧了一个盘子大的洞.如果这套理论成立,我应该可以用强氨中和这个洞,不是吗?










两边都坚持自己是赢家.我觉得我们赢了,你不认为吗?因为我们在他们回去校园之前抓到他们.总之,我们十九个像蝗虫般的吵着要蜂蜜.但蜂蜜吃完了,水晶之泉太太(那是我们帮她起的小名,她夫姓强生)拿出一瓶草莓果酱和一罐枫糖浆 - 上周才做的 - 以及三条全麦面包.

我们到六点半才回学校 - 晚餐迟到半小时 - 我们衣服也没换就去吃晚餐,而且胃口丝毫不减.饭后我们没有去教堂,用我们的脏靴子当借口绰绰有余.

我还没跟你提考试的事.我轻松无比的全部过关 - 我现在知道秘诀,而且绝不会再考不及格.虽然我无法光荣的毕业,因为大一时那可恶的拉丁散文和几何学.但我并不在乎.只要我开心就好.(引用自最近在读的英文经典作家.)

注:原文的Wot’s the hodds so long as you’re ‘appy? 应该是引用自一首歌名“What's the Odds so Long as You're Happy”,作者是Charles James Dunphie (1820-1908),爱尔兰记者,艺术及文学批评家,歌词作者及诗人.



此刻我是奥菲莉亚 - 而且是理性的奥菲莉亚.我逗哈姆雷特开心,我宠他也训他,在他感冒时提醒他把脖子包好.我把他的忧郁完全治好.国王和皇后都去世了 - 海难,所以不需要葬礼 - 哈姆雷特和我没有阻碍的统治丹麦王国.我们把国家治理良好.他负责国事,我负责慈善事业.我刚成立了一间一流的孤儿院.如果你或任何其他理事有意来访,我很乐意带你们参观.我想也许你会获得许多有帮助的建议.




真是令人不敢相信!我简直要乐上天了 - 我在这里得到好多好棒的东西.请听我一一道来.

洁若莎爱柏赢得校刊年度比赛短篇故事冠军(奖金二十五元).而她才大二!参赛者主要是大四生.当我看到我的名字时,简直不敢相信那是真的.也许我真的会成为一个作家.真希望丽柏太太没有帮我取这么傻气的名字 - 那听起来一点都不像作家的名字,不是吗?

我还获选加入春季戏剧公演 - 户外演出的“皆大欢喜”.我要演西莉亚,罗塞琳的表亲.



注:根据维基百科,Martha Washington Hotel 开幕于1903,是第一间只收女客的饭店,原本有416间房间.自2003年起,饭店改名为Hotel Thirty Thirty,三星级.饭店照片在下方.





PS: 刚看了日历,今天应该是二十八日.

另一个PS: 今天看到一个车掌的眼睛一眼是棕色一眼是蓝色.很适合演坏人或侦探,不是吗?





周六早晨莎莉,茱莉亚和我出门逛街.茱莉亚走进一家我此生见过最富丽堂皇的地方,白色和金色的墙壁,蓝色地毯,蓝色丝质窗帘和金色的椅子.一位金发的美丽小姐,身穿一袭摇曳的黑色丝质长礼服,带着欢迎的笑容来迎接我们.我以为我们是去某户人家拜访,正想伸出手跟对方握手时,突然发现我们好像是去买帽子的 - 至少茱莉亚是的.她在一面镜子前坐下,试戴了一打帽子,一顶比一顶漂亮,最后她挑了两顶最漂亮的.




午饭后我们去剧院 - 目不暇给,令人赞叹,无法置信 - 我每晚都梦见.










她开始对我产生兴趣,因为我所说的话.我很努力的不在惊讶时脱口而出 - 但我常常感到很惊讶.那是一个令人脑袋发昏的经验,Daddy,在孤儿院待了十八年之后,突然被丢进真实的世界.


忘了跟你说花的事.哲维少爷送我们每人一束紫罗兰和白色铃兰花.他真贴心,不是吗?我从不特别在意男性 - 孤儿院的理事使然 - 但我改变想法了.

十一页 - 好长一封信.我要停笔了.



















Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Field Day last Saturday. It was a very spectacular occasion. First we had a parade of all the classes, with everybody dressed in white linen, the Seniors carrying blue and gold Japanese umbrellas, and the juniors white and yellow banners. Our class had crimson balloons—very fetching, especially as they were always getting loose and floating off—and the Freshmen wore green tissue-paper hats with long streamers. Also we had a band in blue uniforms hired from town. Also about a dozen funny people, like clowns in a circus, to keep the spectators entertained between events.


上周六是学校运动会,一个非常壮观的场合.首先,所有的班级进行游行,大家都穿着白上衣,大四生举著蓝金相间的日本伞,大三生拿着白黄色的布条.我们班拿红色汽球 - 非常抢眼,尤其是当汽球被松开而往上飞时 - 大一生戴着绿色卫生纸做的帽子和长长的彩带.我们还从镇上花钱请来一组穿制服的乐队.还有大约一打的滑稽人物,例如马戏团的小丑,在比赛与比赛之间娱乐观众.

Julia was dressed as a fat country man with a linen duster and whiskers and baggy umbrella. Patsy Moriarty (Patrici really. Did you ever hear such a name? Mrs. Lippett couldn't have done better) who is tall and thin was Julia's wife in a absurd green bonnet over one ear. Waves of laughter followed them the whole length of the course. Julia played the part extremely well. I never dreamed that a Pendleton could display so much comedy spirit—begging Master Jervie' pardon; I don't consider him a true Pendleton though, any more than I consider you a true Trustee.

茱莉亚打扮成一个胖胖的乡下人,拿着布条撢子和大雨伞.高瘦的派西莫里亚提(注)扮成茱莉亚的妻子,戴着一顶歪歪斜斜的帽子.他们走到哪笑声就跟到哪.茱莉亚的表现太出色了.没想到潘得敦家的人也会搞笑 - 这么说对哲维少爷有点不好意思;不过我并不认为他骨子里真的是潘得敦家的人;就像我也不认为你真的是一名孤儿院的理事.

注:派西莫里亚提的英文原名是 Moriarty,如果你有读过福尔摩斯,就会知道福尔摩斯的死对头也姓 Moriarty.如果我的中英对照小说翻译大家有捧场,那我是一定会翻福尔摩斯的,因为他是大侦探啊!

Sallie and I weren't in the parade because we were entered for the events. And what do you think? We both won! At least in something. We tried for the running broad jump and lost; but Sallie won the pole-vaulting (seven feet three inches) and I won the fifty-yard sprint (eight seconds).


I was pretty panting at the end, but it was great fun, with the whole class waving balloons and cheering and yelling:

What's the matter with Judy Abbott?

She's all right.

Who's all right?

Judy Ab-bott!










高傲的布兰琪小姐跟男仆说,“别净顾著说话,小厮,还不快干活去.”罗彻斯特先生说金属苍穹时,其实指的是天空;还有那个精神失常的女人,笑声像土狼,放火烧了床的蚊帐,撕裂结婚头纱,而且还咬人 - 真的是极度戏剧化,但还是忍不住一直读下去.我想像不出什么样的女孩可以写出这样的作品.尤其当她是在教堂的墓园成长时.勃朗特家的姐妹好吸引我.他们的书,生活,精神,是从何而来?当我读到女主角小时候在慈善学校遇到的问题时,我激动到得出门走走透气.我完全能够体会她的感觉.因为认识丽柏太太,我完全可以想像布洛克赫尔斯特先生是个怎么样的人.

注:简爱Jane Eyre的作者 Charlotte Brontë (1816-1855),在一八四七年时以笔名 Currer Bell出版第一本小说简爱.Charlotte的妹妹Emily Brontë (1818-1848)以笔名Ellis Bell 也在一八四七年出版 Wuthering Heights咆哮山庄,是她唯一的一本小说,去世时才三十岁,真可惜.

请息怒,daddy.我并没有暗示孤儿院和简爱里的罗悟学校有任何相似之处.(注)我们衣食无虑,有足够的水可以梳洗,地下室还有一个火炉.但有一个致命的共同点:极度单调无趣的生活.从来没有任何有趣的事发生过,只有星期天的冰淇淋,即使那也是固定的.在我十八年的岁月中只有一次冒险 - 小木屋失火那天,我们半夜被叫醒先穿好衣服,这样当火势蔓延时我们才可以及时疏散,但火势并没有蔓延,所以我们回去床上继续睡觉.

注:其实很想把Lowood Institute翻译成“落伍学校”的.



你等著看我管理的孤儿院吧.这是我每晚睡觉前最喜欢编的故事.就连最小的细节我都仔细的计划好了 - 食物,衣服,学习,娱乐和处罚;因为即使是优秀的孤儿偶而也是会使坏的.






昨天是周五,今天没课,也许你会以为我度过一个安静的夜晚,读着我用得奖的奖金买来的一套史帝文生的小说?(注)如果是,那表示你从没读过女子大学,亲爱的Daddy.六个朋友来找我做牛奶糖,其中一个把糖掉到地上 - 当糖还没有凝固时 - 就掉在我们最的毯子的正中央.我想那个糖渍永远都洗不掉.







一    我们这个礼拜考试科目是:
甲    化学
乙    历史

二    一栋新的宿舍正在建造中.
甲    材料是

乙    其容量为:

三    今日甜点是奶酪

四    我正在写一篇文章,主题是莎士比亚的剧本渊源

五    露马克马洪今天打篮球时跌倒,她的
甲    肩膀脱臼
乙    膝盖瘀伤

六    我有一顶新帽子,帽缘装饰是
甲    蓝丝绒缎带
乙    两支蓝色羽毛
丙    三个红色绒球

七    现在是九点半

八    晚安