Page 376 - The Story of My Lif

were still shut up. At last Birdie remembered how he had awakened his mother

with kisses, and thought he would try the same plan with the roses; so he drew
up his red lips until THEY

looked like a rosebud, too, and bending down a branch with a lovely pink bud

upon it, he kissed it softly two or three times.

Here the similarity in the language of the story to that in the letter ceases.

HELEN’S LETTER TO MR. ANAGNOS

(Written February 2 and 3, 1890.)

[This letter was enclosed in another written in French, dated Le 1 fevrier 1890.]

My Dear Mr. Anagnos: You will laugh when you open your little friend’s letter
and see all the queer mistakes she has made in French, but I think you will be
pleased to know that I can write even a short letter in French. It makes me very
happy to please you and my dear teacher. I wish I could see your little niece
Amelia. I am sure we should love each other. I hope you will bring some of
Virginia Evanghelides’ poems home with you, and translate them for me.

Teacher and I have just returned from our walk. It is a beautiful day. We met a
sweet little child. She was playing on the pier with a wee brother. She gave me a
kiss and then ran away, because she was a shy little girl. I wonder if you would
like to have me tell you a pretty dream which I had a long time ago when I was a
very little child? Teacher says it was a day-dream, and she thinks you would be
delighted to hear it. One pleasant morning in the beautiful springtime, I thought I
was sitting on the soft grass under my dear mother’s window, looking very
earnestly at the rosebushes which were growing all around me. It was quite early,
the sun had not been up very long; the birds were just beginning to sing joyously.