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40 and September. Adams's legs must be a better match for his head than they were in college.

I've run down here for a week with my mother and sister who are at the Masconomo. Have strolled along the shore this after noon, and wish you were here to enjoy this comfortable ledge of rock and the strong salt air, and to talk over old times. I put a writing pad in my pocket, and the faithful fountain permits one side of a conversation at least. I'm confoundedly sleepy, however,—don't grin like a dog when you read that,—and think I'll stretch out and take a snooze, in the hope of imparting a little brilliancy to my style.

Evening. My dear fellow, I am madly in love. Fact, and you may as well take it seriously. I went to sleep, as I intended to, and dreamed I was discussing methods of executing criminals with your wife, when, in reply to some remark of mine, she said, "I always use a kitchen knife." Then some one laughed and I woke up. Then a Voice—such a delicious voice—said, "Don't grin like a dog," and I thought I must be dreaming, for it was all mixed up with you, and you know I had just written those very words. Then the Voice went on, "Billy said it was inane, but I didn't care, for the result was just as good as his. "Then followed a most amusing talk, which must have lasted fifteen minutes. You need not put on a look of professional disapproval at my eavesdropping. I pledge you my word, I hadn't the faintest idea I was doing it until it was too late. You see, I was half asleep and half awake at first, and when I discovered that I was all awake I hadn't the nerve to get up and apologize for being there, and walk away. It would have been as embarrassing for her as for me. Besides, though she was talking confidentially to some woman friend, she hadn't said a word which there was the slightest objection to my hearing, so I thought best to lie still. I was completely hidden by the ledge, though she couldn't have been six feet distant. It was immensely amusing. The Voice was relating her experiences in keeping house for some one she called Billy on "the ranch"—location unknown. For a long time I thought "Billy" was her husband, and it seemed to me he ought to be a happy man, for she called him a saint (not the canonized kind; she meant a brick), and she said Billy called her a better