a cup of tea in one hand, a plate of muffins in the other, and
then search blankly for a third hand to eat them with. Now he
has solved the problem. He turns in his toes and brings his
knees together; then he folds his napkin into a long, narrow
wedge that fills the crack between them, thus forming a very
workable pseudo lap; after that he sits with tense muscles until
the tea is drunk. I suppose I ought to provide a table, but the
spectacle of Sandy with his toes turned in is the one gleam of
amusement that my day affords.

The postman is just driving in with, I trust, a letter from
you. Letters make a very interesting break in the monotony of
asylum life. If you wish to keep this superintendent contented,
you'd better write often.

. . . . . . . .

Mail received and contents noted.

Kindly convey my thanks to Jervis for three alligators in a
swamp. He shows rare artistic taste in the selection of his post
cards. Your seven-page illustrated letter from Miami arrives at
the same time. I should have known Jervis from the palm tree
perfectly, even without the label, as the tree has so much the
more hair of the two. Also, I have a polite bread-and-butter
letter from my nice young man in Washington, and a book from him,
likewise a box of candy. The bag of peanuts for the kiddies he
has shipped by express. Did you ever know such assiduity?

Jimmie favors me with the news that he is coming to visit me