But first of all Mr. Teddy wants to ask you to forgive him, if he seems to be "butting in" and spoiling the game between you and your godchild. Honor bright, he didn't mean to do it. It was fate. Just blind, mysterious, and merciless fate that decreed that things should happen as they did. Mr. Teddy may be a blessing in disguise, anyway he couldn't be helped, and he has no excuse to offer, except, perhaps, that he is alone in the world and homesick in a foreign land. He is sorry you and he can't fight a duel over the situation, but I am very glad. And Mr. Teddy wants to tell you, very seriously that he takes off his hat to any little fellow of your size who can do the plucky thing you have done, and keep it up so well. If grown up men all had more of your spirit, he says, the war would be over long ago. The object of this letter is as follows: I (your godchild) wish to make amends. I wrote you yesterday, and didn't answer your letter. Not a word did I say about it, except that I had received it, then I prattled away all about another would-be godfather for whom you, naturally, have no earthly use. And to-day my heart is filled with remorse and my head is filled with fears lest you should think your dear godchild is ungrateful, fickle, and flighty. I want to tell you how every detail of your life--from knob-polishing and bug-swallowing to poetry-writing is dear and precious to me. How I wish I could do the same! How I live in eager expectation of your letters; how I gloat and ponder over them when they come; and how deep is the gloom into which I am plunged when they do not come! Mr. Teddy knows all that, because I have somehow expressed it, and if I had striven to hide my thought he would have guessed it, for he knows full well what goes on in the hearts of little maids and gallant lads. Therefore have I asked him to voice my deepest feelings in a poem that will answer yours: "IDEALIZATION" By Andree Leblanc and Yankee Teddy. "_Though our eyes may never meet, To me you're more than bread or meat, You are the proud and noble knight That I pray for every night. You could stand up on burning decks, While others ran to save their necks, You would not fear the dreadful Hun, In Freedom's cause you'd fire a gun. A lad who never gets cold feet Was not destined to know defeat, But oh! thou child of many pray'rs Beware of Jealousy's deep snares!"_ From your affectionate godchild, Andrée Leblanc. Greenville Falls Oct. 10, 1917. My dear Mr. Teddy,