well, after a grumbly fashion. He is able to sit up a little
every day and to receive a carefully selected list of visitors.
Mrs. McGurk sorts them out at the door, and repudiates the ones
she doesn't like.

Good-by. I'd write some more, but I'm so sleepy that my eyes
are shutting on me. (The idiom is Sadie Kate's.) I must go to
bed and get some sleep against the one hundred and seven troubles
of tomorrow.

With love to the Pendletons,

S. McB.


January 22.
Dear Judy:

This letter has nothing to do with the John Grier Home. It's
merely from Sallie McBride.

Do you remember when we read Huxley's letters our senior
year? That book contained a phrase which has stuck in my memory
ever since: "There is always a Cape Horn in one's life that one
either weathers or wrecks oneself on." It's terribly true; and
the trouble is that you can't always recognize your Cape Horn
when you see it. The sailing is sometimes pretty foggy, and
you're wrecked before you know it.

I've been realizing of late that I have reached the Cape