And now, shall I tell you about my vacation, or are you only interested in my education as such? I hope you appreciate the delicate shade of meaning in 'as such'. It is the latest…
And now, shall I tell you about my vacation, or are you only interested in my education as such? I hope you appreciate the delicate shade of meaning in 'as such'. It is the latest addition to my vocabulary. The girl from Texas is named Leonora Fenton. (Almost as funny as Jerusha, isn't it?) I like her, but not so much as Sallie McBride; I shall never like any one so much as Sallie except you. I must always like you the best of all, because you're my whole family rolled into one. Leonora and I and two Sophomores have walked 'cross country every pleasant day and explored the whole neighbourhood, dressed in short skirts and knit jackets and caps, and carrying shiny sticks to whack things with. Once we walked into town four miles - and stopped at a restaurant where the college girls go for dinner. Broiled lobster (35 cents), and for dessert, buckwheat cakes and maple syrup (15 cents). Nourishing and cheap. It was such a lark! Especially for me, because it was so awfully different from the asylum - 1 feel like an escaped convict every time I leave the campus. Before I thought, I started to tell the others what an experience I was having. The cat was almost out of the bag when I grabbed it by its tail and pulled it back. It's awfully hard for me not to tell everything I know. I'm a very confiding soul by nature; if I didn't have you to tell things to, I'd burst. We had a molasses candy pull last Friday evening, given by the house matron of Fergussen to the left-behinds in the other halls. There were twenty-two of us altogether, Freshmen and Sophomores and juniors and Seniors all united in amicable accord. The kitchen is huge, with copper pots and kettles hanging in rows on the stone wall - the littlest casserole among them about the size of a wash boiler. Four hundred girls live in Fergussen. The chef, in a white cap and apron, fetched out twenty-two other white caps and aprons I can't imagine where he got so many and we all turned ourselves into cooks. It was great fun, though I have seen better candy. When it was finally finished, and ourselves and the kitchen and the door-knobs all thoroughly sticky, we organized a procession and still in our caps and aprons, each carrying a big fork or spoon or frying pan, we marched through the empty corridors to the officers' parlour, where half-a-dozen professors and instructors were passing a tranquil evening. We serenaded them with college songs and offered refreshments. They accepted politely but dubiously. We left them sucking chunks of molasses candy, sticky and speechless. So you see, Daddy, my education progresses! Don't you really think that I ought to be an artist instead of an author? Vacation will be over in two days and I shall be glad to see the girls again. My tower is just a trifle lonely; when nine people occupy a house that was built for four hundred, they do rattle around a bit. Eleven pages - poor Daddy, you must be tired! I meant this to be just a short little thank-you note but when I get started I seem to have a ready pen.
Judy began her letter by pondering whether she should share stories about her vacation or if her father was only interested in her education. She mentioned that she hoped he would appreciate the subtlety of the phrase "as such," which was a new addition to her vocabulary.
She introduced a girl from Texas named Leonora Fenton, whom she found amusing—almost as amusing as Jerusha. Judy expressed that while she liked Leonora, her preference would always be for Sallie McBride, saying she could never like anyone as much as she did Sallie, except for her father. She told him that he was her entire family rolled into one. Judy recounted how she, Leonora, and two Sophomores had spent many pleasant days walking across the countryside, dressed in short skirts and knit jackets, exploring the neighborhood while carrying shiny sticks to play with.
Judy recalled one particular adventure when they walked four miles into town to dine at a restaurant popular with college girls, where they enjoyed broiled lobster and buckwheat cakes with maple syrup—both nourishing and cheap. She described the outing as a delightful lark and emphasized how different and liberating it felt compared to the confines of the asylum, writing that each time she left the campus, she felt like an escaped convict. She almost shared the full extent of her experience with the others but made a conscious effort to hold back, acknowledging her naturally confiding nature. She remarked that without her father to confide in, she felt she would burst.
Last Friday evening, she wrote about a molasses candy pull organized by the house matron for those who stayed behind in the dormitories. A total of twenty-two students, including Freshmen, Sophomores, Juniors, and Seniors, came together in a spirit of camaraderie. She described the huge kitchen, noting the copper pots hanging on the stone wall and humorously commented on the size of the littlest casserole. There were four hundred girls living in Fergussen, and the chef provided white caps and aprons for everyone, turning the students into cooks.
Judy mentioned that while making the candy was fun, she had tasted better. Once they finished, the kitchen and everyone involved became sticky, leading to a hilarious procession through empty corridors while wearing their cooking attire, each carrying various utensils. They serenaded the professors and instructors in the officers' parlor, offering them the candy, which they accepted politely but with some reservation. She concluded that her education was indeed progressing.
She then posed a rhetorical question to her father, wondering if she should pursue a career as an artist instead of as an author. Judy stated that vacation would soon be over, and she looked forward to reuniting with her friends, admitting that her living space felt a bit lonely with only nine people in a house designed for four hundred.
Before finishing her letter, she expressed remorse for the length of her correspondence, explaining that she initially intended it to be a brief thank-you note, but once she started writing, her pen flowed easily.
