dear enemy-第27部分

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Hark　to　the　glad　tidings！

This　being　the　thirty…first　day　of　Punch's　month；　I　telephoned　to　his　two　patronesses；　as　nominated　in　the　bond；　to　arrange　for　his　return。　　I　was　met　by　an　indignant　refusal。　　Give　up　their　sweet　little　volcano　just　as　they　are　getting　it　trained　not　to　belch　forth　fire？　　They　are　outraged　that　I　can　make　such　an　ungrateful　request。　　Punch　has　accepted　their　invitation　to　spend　the　summer。

The　dressmaking　is　still　going　on。　　You　should　hear　the　machines　whir　and　the　tongues　clatter　in　the　sewing　room。　　Our　most　cowed；　apathetic；　spiritless　little　orphan　cheers　up　and　takes　an　interest　in　life　when　she　hears　that　she　is　to　possess　three　perfectly　private　dresses　of　her　own；　and　each　a　different　color；　chosen　by　herself。　　And　you　should　see　how　it　encourages　their　sewing　ability。　　Even　the　little　ten…year…olds　are　bursting　into　seamstresses。　　I　wish　I　could　devise　an　equally　effective　way　to　make　them　take　an　interest　in　cooking。　　But　our　kitchen　is　extremely　uneducative。　　You　know　how　hampering　it　is　to　one's　enthusiasm　to　have　to　prepare　a　bushel　of　potatoes　at　once。

I　think　you've　heard　me　mention　the　fact　that　I　should　like　to　divide　up　my　kiddies　into　ten　nice　little　families；　with　a　nice　comfortable　house　mother　over　each？　　If　we　just　had　ten　picturesque　cottages　to　put　them　in；　with　flowers　in　the　front　yard　and　rabbits　and　kittens　and　puppies　and　chickens　in　the　back；　we　should　be　a　perfectly　presentable　institution；　and　wouldn't　be　ashamed　to　have　these　charity　experts　come　visiting　us。


　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Thursday。


I　started　this　letter　three　days　ago；　was　interrupted　to　talk　to　a　potential　philanthropist　（fifty　tickets　to　the　circus）；　and　have　not　had　time　to　pick　up　my　pen　since。　　Betsy　has　been　in　Philadelphia　for　three　days；　being　a　bridesmaid　for　a　miserable　cousin。　　I　hope　that　no　more　of　her　family　are　thinking　of　getting　married；　for　it's　most　upsetting　to　the　J。　G。　H。

While　there；　she　investigated　a　family　who　had　applied　for　a　child。　　Of　course　we　haven't　a　proper　investigating　plant；　but　once　in　a　while；　when　a　family　drops　right　into　our　arms；　we　do　like　to　put　the　business　through。　　As　a　usual　thing；　we　work　with　the　State　Charities'　Aid　Association。　　They　have　a　lot　of　trained　agents　traveling　about　the　State；　keeping　in　touch　with　families　who　are　willing　to　take　children；　and　with　asylums　that　have　them　to　give。　　Since　they　are　willing　to　work　for　us；　there　is　no　slightest　use　in　our　going　to　the　expense　of　peddling　our　own　babies。　　And　I　do　want　to　place　out　as　many　as　are　available；　for　I　firmly　believe　that　a　private　home　is　the　best　thing　for　the　child；　provided；　of　course；　that　we　are　very　fussy　about　the　character　of　the　homes　we　choose。　　I　don't　require　rich　foster　parents；　but　I　do　require　kind；　loving；　intelligent　parents。　　This　time　I　think　Betsy　has　landed　a　gem　of　a　family。　　The　child　is　not　yet　delivered　or　the　papers　signed；　and　of　course　there　is　always　danger　that　they　may　give　a　sudden　flop；　and　splash　back　into　the　water。

Ask　Jervis　if　he　ever　heard　of　J。　F。　Bretland　of　Philadelphia。　　He　seems　to　move　in　financial　circles。　　The　first　I　ever　heard　of　him　was　a　letter　addressed　to　the　〃Supt。　John　Grier　Home；　Dear　Sir；〃a　curt；　typewritten；　businesslike　letter；　from　an　AWFULLY　businesslike　lawyer；　saying　that　his　wife　had　determined　to　adopt　a　baby　girl　of　attractive　appearance　and　good　health　between　the　ages　of　two　and　three　years。　　The　child　must　be　an　orphan　of　American　stock；　with　unimpeachable　heredity；　and　no　relatives　to　interfere。　　Could　I　furnish　one　as　required　and　oblige；　yours　truly；　J。　F。　Bretland？

By　way　of　reference　he　mentioned　〃Bradstreets。〃　　Did　you　ever　hear　of　anything　so　funny？　　You　would　think　he　was　opening　a　charge　account　at　a　nursery；　and　inclosing　an　order　from　our　seed　catalogue。

We　began　our　usual　investigation　by　mailing　a　reference　blank　to　a　clergyman　in　Germantown；　where　the　J。　F。　B。's　reside。

Does　he　own　any　property？

Does　he　pay　his　bills？

Is　he　kind　to　animals？

Does　he　attend　church？

Does　he　quarrel　with　his　wife？　　And　a　dozen　other　impertinent　questions。

We　evidently　picked　a　clergyman　with　a　sense　of　humor。　　Instead　of　answering　in　laborious　detail；　he　wrote　up　and　down　and　across　the　sheet；　〃I　wish　they'd　adopt　me！〃

This　looked　promising；　so　B。　Kindred　obligingly　dashed　out　to　Germantown　as　soon　as　the　wedding　breakfast　was　over。　　She　is　developing　the　most　phenomenal　detective　instinct。　　In　the　course　of　a　social　call　she　can　absorb　from　the　chairs　and　tables　a　family's　entire　moral　history。

She　returned　from　Germantown　bursting　with　enthusiastic　details。

Mr。　J。　F。　Bretland　is　a　wealthy　and　influential　citizen；　cordially　loved　by　his　friends　and　deeply　hated　by　his　enemies　（discharged　employees；　who　do　not　hesitate　to　say　that　he　is　a　HAR…RD　man）。　　He　is　a　little　shaky　in　his　attendance　at　church；　but　his　wife　seems　regular；　and　he　gives　money。

She　is　a　charming；　kindly；　cultivated　gentlewoman；　just　out　of　a　sanatorium　after　a　year　of　nervous　prostration。　　The　doctor　says　that　what　she　needs　is　some　strong　interest　in　life；　and　advises　adopting　a　child。　　She　has　always　longed　to　do　it；　but　her　hard　husband　has　stubbornly　refused。　　But　finally；　as　always；　it　is　the　gentle；　persistent　wife　who　has　triumphed；　and　hard　husband　has　been　forced　to　give　in。　　Waiving　his　own　natural　preference　for　a　boy；　he　wrote；　as　above；　the　usual　request　for　a　blue…eyed　girl。

Mrs。　Bretland；　with　the　firm　intention　of　taking　a　child；　has　been　reading　up　for　years；　and　there　is　no　detail　of　infant　dietetics　that　she　does　not　know。　　She　has　a　sunny　nursery；　with　a　southwestern　exposure；　all　ready。　　And　a　closet　full　of　surreptitiously　gathered　dolls！　　She　has　made　the　clothes　for　them　herself；she　showed　them　to　Betsy　with　the　greatest　pride；so　you　can　understand　the　necessity　for　a　girl。

She　has　just　heard　of　an　excellent　English　trained　nurse　that　she　can　secure；　but　she　isn't　sure　but　that　it　would　be　better　to　start　with　a　French　nurse；　so　that　the　child　can　learn　the　language　before　her　vocal　cords　are　set。　　Also；　she　was　extremely　interested　when　she　heard　that　Betsy　was　a　college　woman。　　She　couldn't　make　up　her　mind　whether　to　send　the　baby　to　college　or　not。　　What　was　Betsy's　honest　opinion？　　If　the　child　were　Betsy's　own　daughter；　would　Betsy　send　her　to　college？

All　this　would　be　funny　if　it　weren't　so　pathetic；　but　really　I　can't　get　away　from　the　picture　of　that　poor　lonely　woman　sewing　those　doll　clothes　for　the　little　unknown　girl　that　she　wasn't　sure　she　could　have。　　She　lost　her　own　two　babies　years　ago；　or；　rather；　she　never　had　them；　they　were　never　alive。

You　can　see　what　a　good　home　it's　going　to　be。　　There's　lots　of　love　waiting　for　the　little　mite；　and　that　is　better　than　all　the　wealth　which；　in　this　case；　goes　along。

But　the　problem　now　is　to　find　the　child；　and　that　isn't　easy。　　The　J。　F。　Bretlands　are　so　abominably　explicit　in　their　requirements。　　I　have　just　the　baby　boy　to　give　them；　but　with　that　closetful　of　dolls；　he　is　impossible。　　Little　Florence　won't　doone　tenacious　parent　living。　　I've　a　wide　variety　of　foreigners　with　liquid　brown　eyeswon't　do　at　all。　　Mrs。　Bretland　is　a　blonde；　and　daughter　must　resemble　her。　　I　have　several　sweet　little　mites　with　unspeakable　heredity；　but　the　Bretlands　want　six　generations　of　church…attending　grandparents；　with　a　colonial　governor　at　the　top。　　Also　I　have　a　darling　little　curly…headed　girl　（and　curls　are　getting　rarer　and　rarer）；　but　illegitimate。　　And　that　seems　to　be　an　unsurmountable　barrier　in　the　eyes　of　adopting　parents；　though；　as　a　matter　of　fact；　it　makes　no　slightest　difference　in　the　child。　　However；　she　won't　do。　　The　Bretlands　hold　out　sternly　for　a　marriage　certificate。

There　remains　just　one　child　out　of　all　these　one　hundred　and　seven　that　appears　available。　　Our　little　Sophie's　father　and　mother　were　killed　in　a　railroad　accident；　and　the　only　reason　she　wasn't　killed　was　because　they　had　just　left　her　in　a　hospital　to　get　an　abscess　cut　out　of　her　throat。　　She　comes　from　good　common　American　stock；　irreproachable　and　uninteresting　in　every　way。　　She's　a　washed…out；　spiritless；　whiney　little　thing。　　The　doctor　has　been　pouring　her　full　of　his　favorite　cod…liver　oil　and　spinach；　but　he　can't　get　any　cheerfulness　into　her。

However；　individual　love　and　care　does　accomplish　wonders　in　institution　children；　and　she　may　bloom　into　something　rare　and　beautiful　after　a　few　months'　transplanting。　　So　I　yesterday　wrote　a　glowing　account　of　her　immaculate　family　history　to　J。　F。　Bretland；　offering　to　deliver　her　in　Germantown。

This　morning　I　received　a　telegram　from　J。　F。　B。　　Not　at　all！　　He　does　not　purpose　to　buy　any　daughter　sight　unseen。　　He　will　come　and　inspect　the　child　in　person　at　three　o'clock　on　Wednesday　next。

Oh　dear；　if　he　shouldn't　like　her！　　We　are　now　bending　all　our　energies　toward　enhancing　that　child's　beauty…like　a　pup　bound　for　the　dog　show。　　Do　you　think　it　would　be　awfully　immoral　if　I　rouged　her　cheeks　a　suspicion？　　She　is　too　young　to　pick　up　the　habit。

Heavens！　what　a　letter！　　A　million　pages　written　without　a　break。　　You　can　see　w