You have no cause to worry. I am not overworking. I am
enjoying it; never was so busy and happy in my life. The papers
made the fire out much more lurid than it really was. That
picture of me leaping from the roof with a baby under each arm
was overdrawn. One or two of the children have sore throats, and
our poor doctor is in a plaster cast. But we're all alive, thank
Heaven! and are going to pull through without permanent scars.

I can't write details now; I'm simply rushed to death. And
don't come--please! Later, when things have settled just a
little, you and I must have a talk about you and me, but I want
time to think about it first.

S.


January 21.
Dear Judy:

Helen Brooks is taking hold of those fourteen fractious girls in
a most masterly fashion. The job is quite the toughest I had to
offer, and she likes it. I think she is going to be a valuable
addition to our staff.

And I forgot to tell you about Punch. When the fire
occurred, those two nice women who kept him all summer were on
the point of catching a train for California--and they simply
tucked him under their arms, along with their luggage, and
carried him off. So Punch spends the winter in Pasadena and I