DEAR GIRLS:

Your letters have given me a great deal of pleasure; but I, too, miss those which have not yet written. Even though the last ones are old, they are better than nothing, and for those of us who did not get to the reunion they are the latest news available. This time let us leave in all the letters until the writers themselves take them out on the next round of the robin. Then everybody can read all.

I love to read about the young people -children, nephews, nieces-with their various interests and hopes. I have about 250 girls in my classes, new ones every six months. They are of many nationalities, religions, and political beliefs; most of them somewhat underprivileged, but good at heart and looking up. And I am deeply interested in the three children of my cousin, who are starting their careers: the eldest has her first baby, the next has just secured his first position, and the youngest is still preparing. When I was a little girl I was so fond of my aunts and uncles I was sorry I could never be an aunt because of being an only child; but now, to my great happiness, my young cousins seem like nephews and nieces.

My immediate family consists of my mother, a friend, and myself. We enjoy our home, garden, trees, birds, friends, and Madison. I am away from home over ten hours a day, three of which are spent traveling from home to school and back-part of the trip pleasant. In the summer we go to Ocean Grove, where we meet many old friends. I have little leisure, but am well, and very happy in my work and in all the associations of my life. We still have, as school principal, Mr. Zabriskie, who seems as nearly ideal for the position as anyone could be. That makes the atmosphere of the whole school very pleasant.

I am sorry, Nina, about your son's going to West Point. Your pacifist teaching can hardly help having some influence, however, in his life. I believe some day, when swords are turned into ploughshares, the army, instead of being disbanded, will be turned into a constructive agency. The change may come slowly, it may begin soon, perhaps in your son's life time.

Congratulations, Rosalie! It is an honor for us to have one of 1903's husbands the mayor of a great city.

Lida, I think I share some of your Orient feeling on my daily trip to school. I see so much misery! Whenever Dr. North's hymn is sung,

Where cross the crowded ways of life,
Where sound the cries of race and clan,

I think of Fourth Avenue and 14th Street. There people live their lives in the open; human nature is revealed, bare of the inhibitions and conventions which veil us from one another on our social level.

Florence, your letter was most interesting. Africa is such a fascinating country! I love to read about it and see pictures of it.

Last summer I spent a very happy three or four days with Mary Beavers, my freshman year roommate, in Washington, New Jersey. Do you remember some people said we looked alike? To my surprise, in spite of my white hair, someone last summer said we did. I hope, Mary, you will write a letter telling us, among other things, about your trip to Mexico.

Love to you all. I hope to come to our 1939 reunion. I live near New Jersey Highway 24. Come to see me when you can.

Yours in the bond of 1903,
Frances Doherty

OVER
P.S. Edna Coultas Kennedy lives in Madison, and has read your letters with interest. She thinks she has nothing interesting to contribute, but she sends her love to those of you who remember her and are interested. (I am sorry I have so overused the word 'interest' but it will have to stay now.)