Daddy-Long-Legs: List 2

Please excuse my exuberance; I'll settle pretty soon.

Yours most loquaciously,
Judy Abbott

I suppose you're thinking now what a frivolous, shallow little beast she is, and what a waste of money to educate a girl?

A cohort of light armed Numidians engaged the infantry of Quintus Fabius Maximus.

Two battles and light skirmishing.

I have the honour of being,
Your special correspondent from the front,
J. Abbott

You wouldn't believe, Daddy, what an abyss of ignorance my mind is; I am just realizing the depths myself.

On Friday last we abandoned our former works in parallelopipeds and proceeded to truncated prisms.

To recapitulate (that's the way the English instructor begins every other sentence), I am very much obliged for my seven presents.

It was such a lark!

There were twenty-two of us altogether, Freshmen and Sophomores and Juniors and Seniors all united in amicable accord.

I failed in mathematics and Latin prose. I am tutoring in them, and will take another examination next month.

I might, very usefully, put some time on Latin tonight but, there's no doubt about it, I'm a very languid Latin scholar.

I didn't know it, but I was just sickening for tonsillitis and grippe and lots of things mixed.

Looking back dispassionately after a period of time, I will say that punishment was merited, and—if I remember rightly—adequate.

I don't know why I am in such a reminiscent mood except that spring and the reappearance of toads always awakens the old acquisitive instinct.

I don't know why I am in such a reminiscent mood except that spring and the reappearance of toads always awakens the old acquisitive instinct.

In trigonometry the Professor and I had a disagreement touching a little matter of logarithms.

When I read the first verse I thought I had an idea—The Mighty Merchant was a divinity who distributes blessings in return for virtuous deeds—but when I got to the second verse and found him twirling a button, it seemed a blasphemous supposition, and I hastily changed my mind.

When I read the first verse I thought I had an idea—The Mighty Merchant was a divinity who distributes blessings in return for virtuous deeds—but when I got to the second verse and found him twirling a button, it seemed a blasphemous supposition, and I hastily changed my mind.

Anybody can rise to a crisis and face a crushing tragedy with courage, but to meet the petty hazards of the day with a laugh—I really think that requires SPIRIT.

She hopes that I am doing well in deportment and studies.

That is merely a rhetorical question.

Isn't that an exalted stand to take?

I don't agree with the theory that adversity and sorrow and disappointment develop moral strength.

I have no faith in misanthropes.

The Trustee, as such, is fat and pompous and benevolent.

He's her father's youngest brother, but she doesn't know him very intimately.

I said I would, obligingly but unenthusiastically, because I don't care much for Pendletons.

He's very companionable.

Your nominal authority doesn't annoy me in the least; you are too far away to do any harm.

Julia—a spotted, nondescript animal.

Amasai spent all the morning washing the buggy; and Carrie stayed home from church ostensibly to cook the dinner, but really to iron the muslin dress.

We're going to begin threshing oats tomorrow; a steam engine is coming and three extra men.

That is the subject of the frontispiece.

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.

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.

You can see with what deep philosophical reflection we engage our leisure!

Our innocent prattle appeared to amuse him and he waited for a later train in order to take tea in the study.

But Julia hasn't a bit of tact; and men, I find, require a great deal.