dear daddy-long-legs,

supposing the swimming tank in the gymnasium were filled full

of lemon jelly, could a person trying to swim manage to keep

on top or would he sink?

we were having lemon jelly for dessert when the question came up.

we discussed it heatedly for half an hour and it's still unsettled.

sallie thinks that she could swim in it, but i am perfectly sure

that the best swimmer in the world would sink. wouldn't it be funny

to be drowned in lemon jelly?

two other problems are engaging the attention of our table.

1st. what shape are the rooms in an octagon house?

some of the girls insist that they're square;

but i think they'd have to be shaped like a piece of pie. don't you?

2nd. suppose there were a great big hollow sphere made of

looking-glass and you were sitting inside. where would it stop

reflecting your face and begin reflecting your back? the more

one thinks about this problem, the more puzzling it becomes.

you can see with what deep philosophical reflection we engage our leisure!

did i ever tell you about the election? it happened three weeks ago,

but so fast do we live, that three weeks is ancient history.

sallie was elected, and we had a torchlight parade with

transparencies saying, `mcbride for ever,' and a band consisting

of fourteen pieces (three mouth organs and eleven combs).

we're very important persons now in `258.' julia and i come in

for a great deal of reflected glory. it's quite a social strain

to be living in the same house with a president.

bonne nuit, cher daddy.

acceptez mez compliments,

tres respectueux,

je suis,

votre judy