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24th March, maybe the 25th
Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,
I don't believe I can be going to Heaven— 

I am getting such a lot of good things here; it wouldn't be fair to get them hereafter too. Listen to what has happened.

Jerusha Abbott has won the short-story contest (a twenty-five dollar prize) that the Monthly holds every year. 

And she's a Sophomore! The contestants are mostly Seniors. When I saw my name posted, I couldn't quite believe it was true. 

Maybe I am going to be an author after all. I wish Mrs. Lippett hadn't given me such a silly name— it sounds like an author-ess, doesn't it?

Also I have been chosen for the spring dramatics— As You Like It out of doors. I am going to be Celia, own cousin to Rosalind.

And lastly: Julia and Sallie and I are going to New York next Friday to do some spring shopping and stay all night 

and go to the theatre the next day with 'Master Jervie.' He invited us. Julia is going to stay at home with her family, but Sallie and I are going to stop at the Martha Washington Hotel. 

Did you ever hear of anything so exciting? I've never been in a hotel in my life, nor in a theatre; except once when the Catholic Church had a festival and invited the orphans, but that wasn't a real play and it doesn't count.

And what do you think we're going to see? Hamlet. Think of that! We studied it for four weeks in Shakespeare class and I know it by heart.

I am so excited over all these prospects that I can scarcely sleep.
Goodbye, Daddy. This is a very entertaining world.
Yours ever, Judy

PS. I've just looked at the calendar. It's the 28th.
Another postscript. I saw a street car conductor today with one brown eye and one blue. Wouldn't he make a nice villain for a detective story?

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