It’s the impersonality of your commands that hurts my feelings.
It seems as though, if you felt the tiniest little bit for me the
way I feel for you, you’d sometimes send me a message that you’d
written with your own hand, instead of those beastly typewritten
secretary’s notes. If there were the slightest hint that you cared,
I’d do anything on earth to please you.
I know that I was to write nice, long, detailed letters without ever
expecting 佛山桑拿按摩网 any answer. You’re living up to your side of the bargain–
I’m being educated–and I suppose you’re thinking I’m not living up
But, Daddy, it is a hard bargain. It is, really. I’m so awfully lonely.
You are the only person I have to care for, and you are so shadowy.
You’re just an imaginary man that I’ve made up–and probably
the real YOU isn’t a bit like my imaginary YOU. But you did once,
when I was ill in the infirmary, send me a message, and now,
when I am feeling awfully forgotten, I get out your card and read
I don’t think I am telling you at all what I started to say,
which was this:
Although my feelings are still hurt, for it is very humiliating
to be picked up and moved about by an arbitrary, peremptory,
unreasonable, omnipotent, invisible Providence, still, when a man
been as kind and 佛山桑拿全套按摩论坛 generous and thoughtful as you have heretofore
been towards me, I suppose he has a right to be an arbitrary,
peremptory, unreasonable, invisible Providence if he chooses, and so–
I’ll forgive you and be cheerful again. But I still don’t enjoy
getting Sallie’s letters about the good times they are having in camp!
However–we will draw a veil over that and begin again.
I’ve been writing and writing this summer; four short stories
finished and sent to four different magazines. So you see I’m
trying to be an author. I 佛山桑拿交流区 have a workroom fixed in a corner of the
attic where Master Jervie used to have his rainy-day playroom.
It’s in a cool, breezy corner with two dormer windows, and shaded
by a maple tree with a family of red squirrels living in a hole.
I’ll write a nicer letter in a few days
and tell you all the farm news.
We 佛山夜生活 need rain.
Yours as ever,
SIR: I address you from the second crotch in the willow tree
by the pool in the pasture. There’s a frog croaking underneath,
a locust singing overhead and two little `devil downheads’
darting up and down the trunk. I’ve been here for an hour;
it’s a very comfortable crotch, especially after being upholstered
with two sofa cushions. I came up with a pen and tablet hoping to
write an immortal short story, but I’ve been having a dreadful time
with my heroine–I 佛山桑拿服务微信 CAN’T make her behave as I want her to behave;
so I’ve abandoned her for the moment, and am writing to you.
(Not much relief though, for I can’t make you behave as I want
you to, either.)
If you are in that dreadful New York, I wish I could send you some
of this lovely, breezy, sunshiny outlook. The country 佛山南海按摩 is Heaven
after a week of rain.
Speaking of Heaven–do you remember Mr. Kellogg that I told you about
last summer?–the minister of the little white church at the Corners.
Well, the poor old soul is dead–last winter of pneumonia. I went
half a dozen times to hear him preach and got very well acquainted
with his theology. He believed to the end exactly the same things
he started with. It seems to me that a man who can think straight
along for forty-seven years without changing a single idea ought to
be kept in a 佛山桑拿按摩论坛07 cabinet as a curiosity. I hope he is enjoying his harp
and golden crown; he was so perfectly sure of finding them! There’s a
new young man, very consequential, in his place. The congregation
is pretty dubious, especially the faction led by Deacon Cummings.
It looks as though there was going to be an awful split in the 佛山南海区桑拿娱乐会所 church.
We don’t care for innovations in religion in this neighbourhood.