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Page 18
"Now I'm more than ever anxious to get well," she cried, "and go
out to see that post office."
"Oh, no," said Uncle Steve, shaking his head; "you don't care
about post offices and walks in the woods, and drives through the
country. You'd rather slide down an old barn roof, and then lie in
bed for a week."
"Catch me doing it again," said Marjorie, shaking her head
decidedly; "and now, Uncle, suppose we open these letters."
"Why, that wouldn't be a bad idea. Here's a paper-cutter. Let's
open one at a time, they'll last longer. Suppose you read this one
first."
Marjorie opened the first letter, and quickly turned the page to
see the signature.
"Why, Uncle Steve," she cried, "this is signed Ned and Dick! I
didn't know horses could write letters."
"There are a great many things, my child, that you don't know yet.
And so Ned and Dick have written to you! Now that's very kind of
them. Read me what they say."
In great glee, Marjorie read aloud:
"DEAR MARJORIE:
It is too bad
For you to act this way;
Just think what fun we might have had
Out driving every day.
"We could have gone to Blossom Banks,
Or Maple Grove instead;
But no, you had to cut up pranks
That landed you in bed!
"We hope you'll soon be well again,
And get downstairs right quick;
And we will all go driving then.
Your true friends,
NED AND DICK."
"Well, I do declare," said Uncle Steve, "I always said they were
intelligent horses, but this is the first time I've ever heard of
their writing a letter. They must be very fond of you, Marjorie."
Marjorie's eyes twinkled. She well knew Uncle Steve had written
the letter himself, but she was always ready to carry out her part
of a joke, so she replied:
"Yes, I think they must be fond of me, and I think I know somebody
else who is, too. But it was nice of Ned and Dick to write and let
me know that they hadn't forgotten me. And as soon as I can get
downstairs, I shall be delighted to go driving with them. Where is
Blossom Banks, Uncle?"
"Oh, it's a lovely place, a sort of picnic ground; there are
several grassy banks, and blossoms grow all over them. They slope
right down to the river; but, of course, you wouldn't think them
nearly so nice as a sloping barn roof."
Marjorie knew she must stand teasing from Uncle Steve, but his
smile was so good-natured, and he was such a dear old uncle
anyway, that she didn't mind it very much.
"Suppose I read another letter," she said, quite ready to turn the
subject.
"Do; open that one with the typewritten address. I wonder who
could have written that! Perhaps the cow; she's very agile on the
typewriter."
The mental picture of the cow using the typewriter produced such
hilarity that it was a few moments before the letter was opened.
"It IS from the cow!" exclaimed Marjorie, "and she does write
beautifully on the machine. I don't see a single error."
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