as soon as father can spare him from the factory. The poor boy
does hate that factory so! It isn't that he is lazy; he just
simply isn't interested in overalls. But father can't understand
such a lack of taste. Having built up the factory, he of course
has developed a passion for overalls, which should have been
inherited by his eldest son. I find it awfully convenient to
have been born a daughter; I am not asked to like overalls, but
am left free to follow any morbid career I may choose, such as
this.

To return to my mail: There arrives an advertisement from a
wholesale grocer, saying that he has exceptionally economical
brands of oatmeal, rice, flour, prunes, and dried apples that he
packs specially for prisons and charitable institutions. Sounds
nutritious, doesn't it?

I also have letters from a couple of farmers, each of whom
would like to have a strong, husky boy of fourteen who is not
afraid of work, their object being to give him a good home.
These good homes appear with great frequency just as the spring
planting is coming on. When we investigated one of them last
week, the village minister, in answer to our usual question,
"Does he own any property?" replied in a very guarded manner, "I
think he must own a corkscrew."

You would hardly credit some of the homes that we have
investigated. We found a very prosperous country family the
other day, who lived huddled together in three rooms in order to
keep the rest of their handsome house clean. The fourteen-year
girl they wished to adopt, by way of a cheap servant, was to