By the way, I had hardly been reluctantly settled in the house again, before Father rushed out and wired that amiable go-between, our mutual friend John Denton. He is back in New York again, as no doubt you know, and a return message came from him today, announcing that he will be with us in person on Friday, in order to "celebrate and to see the miracle with his own eyes." Isn't that nice? And won't your ears burn, distant Poet! This is Monday. Sky-blue Monday. By Friday, perhaps, I may be allowed to spend the whole afternoon in my Green Playground. Your friend, and so happily, THE PRINCESS NEW YORK August 24th Princess! Your letter is here, and so elated me that I put a black cover over my chattering typewriter--it's _just_ like a parrot, you know,--and I must occasionally convince it, by artificial means, that it is night--and left my cave dwelling for the day, in order to fully share your holiday sense. And when I returned, it was not alone. For what do you think? Right in the wilds of Manhattan I found Somebody who fairly begged to be sent to you! He goes to you by Mr. John Denton, and by the time this reaches you I hope he will feel himself very much at home. And I hope, too, that you will care for his companionship. His name is, appropriately, Wigglesworth. Please report to me on his arrival and subsequent behavior. Lucky dog! Yours, RICHARD WARREN CHAPTER IV MIRACLES AND MISCHIEF August 21 DIARY, I'M OUT OF DOORS! August 28 Diary, you're not to scold. I know I've not honored you with so much as an exclamation point since my very first out-of-doors entry. But Mr. John Denton has been and gone--and Wigglesworth is here to stay! Let me see how it all happened.