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4th February
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

Jimmie McBride has sent me a Princeton banner as big as one end of the room; 
I am very grateful to him for remembering me, but I don't know what on earth to do with it. 
Sallie and Julia won't let me hang it up; our room this year is furnished in red, and you can imagine what an effect we'd have if I added orange and black.
But it's such nice, warm, thick felt, I hate to waste it. Would it be very improper to have it made into a bath robe? My old one shrank when it was washed.
I've entirely omitted of late telling you what I am learning, but though you might not imagine it from my letters, my time is exclusively occupied with study. 
It's a very bewildering matter to get educated in five branches at once.
'The test of true scholarship,' says Chemistry Professor, 'is a painstaking passion for detail.'
'Be careful not to keep your eyes glued to detail,' says History Professor. 'Stand far enough away to get a perspective of the whole.'
You can see with what nicety we have to trim our sails between chemistry and history.
I like the historical method best. If I say that William the Conqueror came over in 1492, and Columbus discovered America in 1100 or 1066 or whenever it was, that's a mere detail that the Professor overlooks. 
It gives a feeling of security and restfulness to the history recitation, that is entirely lacking in chemistry.
Sixth-hour bell— I must go to the laboratory and look into a little matter of acids and salts and alkalis. 
I've burned a hole as big as a plate in the front of my chemistry apron, with hydrochloric acid. 
If the theory worked, I ought to be able to neutralize that hole with good strong ammonia, oughtn't I? 
Examinations next week, but who's afraid?
Yours ever, Judy

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