Listen to what I've learned to-day.
The area of the convex surface of the frustum of a regular pyramid is half the product of the sum of the perimeters of its bases by the altitude of either of its trapezoids .
It doesn't sound true, but it is--I can prove it!
You've never heard about my clothes, have you, Daddy? Six dresses, all new and beautiful and bought for me--not handed down from somebody bigger. Perhaps you don't realize what a climax that marks in the career of an orphan? You gave them to me, and I am very, very, Very much obliged. It's a fine thing to be educated--but nothing compared to the dizzying experience of owning six new dresses. Miss. Pritchard, who is on the visiting committee, picked them out--not Mrs. Lippett, thank goodness.
I have an evening dress, pink mull over silk ( I'm perfectly beautiful in that) , and a blue church dress, and a dinner dress of red veiling with Oriental trimming ( makes me look like a Gipsy), and another of rose-colored challis, and a grey street suit, and an every-day dress for classes. That wouldn't be an awfully big wardrobe for Julia Rutledge Pendleton, perhaps , but for Jerusha Abbott--Oh, my!
mull ململ نازک
climax اوج، رأس ، قله
veiling نقاب ، تور صورت
obliged ممنون، مجبور
من تاکنون در مورد لباسهایی که می پوشم برایتان چیزی ننوشته ام، مگر نه؟ شش دست لباس خریدم که همه نو و تمیز هستند. البته لباسهای دست دوم کسی که از من درشت اندام تر بود، نه، بلکه نو و دست اول.
Behold me--a Sophomore! I came up last Friday, sorry to leave Lock Willow, but glad to see the campus again. It is a pleasant sensation to come back to something familiar. I am beginning to feel at home in college, and in command of the situation; I am beginning, in fact, to feel at home in the world--as though I really belonged to it and had not just crept in on sufferance.
I don't suppose you understand in the least what I am trying to say. A person important enough to be a Trustee can't appreciate the feelings of a person unimportant enough to be a foundling.
And now, Daddy, listen to this. Whom do you think I am rooming with? Sallie McBride and Julia Rutledge Pendleton. It's the truth. We have a study and three little bedrooms--VOILA!
Sallie and I decided last spring that we should like to room together, and Julia made up her mind to stay with Sallie--why, I can't imagine, for they are not a bit alike; but the Pendletons are naturally conservative and inimical ( fine word!) to change. Anyway, here we are. Think of Jerusha Abbott, late of the John Grier Home for Orphans, rooming with a Pendleton. This is a democratic country.
Sallie is running for class president, and unless all signs fail, she is going to be elected. Such an atmosphere of intrigue you should see what politicians we are! Oh, I tell you, Daddy, when we women get our rights, you men will have to look alive in order to keep yours. Election comes next Saturday, and we're going to have torchlight procession in the evening, no matter who wins.
I am beginning chemistry, a most unusual study. I've never seen anything like it before. Molecules and Atoms are the material employed, but I'll be in a position to discuss them more definitely next month.
I am also taking argumentation and logic.
Also history of the whole world.
Also plays of William Shakespeare.
If this keeps up many years longer, I shall become quite intelligent. I should rather have elected economics than French, but I didn't dare, because I was afraid that unless I re-elected French, the Professor would not let me pass--as it was,, I just managed to squeeze through the June examination. But I will say that my high-school preparation was not very adequate.
There's one girl in the class who chatters away in French as fast as she does in English. She went abroad with her parents when she was a child, and spent three years in a convent school. You can imagine how bright she is compared with the rest of us--irregular verbs are mere playthings. I wish my parents had chucked me into a French convent when I was little instead of a foundling asylum. Oh no, I don't either! Because then maybe I should never have known you. I'd rather know you than French.
Goodbye Daddy. I must call on Harriet Martin now, and, having discussed the chemical situation, causally drop a few thoughts on the subject of our next president.
Yours in politics,