I feel as if, link by link, the fetters were falling. I hardly dare think ahead--to the day when the great round world shall be mine again. To the day when I shall go to all the places I only know from books and pictures. I want to go to the theatre. I want to see a horse race! I want to sail in a boat! And I want to walk and walk and walk! And, Poet, I want to fly! I must never be very athletic, they say. Probably I shall never ride or skate, or even drive a car! I don't know--it doesn't matter, of course. But I do hope that I may dance! I've dreamed of dancing. You know, in my dreams, I am always strong and well. You are happy with me and for me, I am sure. And sometimes I think that your letters and your friendship have given me courage and faith which otherwise I should not have had. It must be a beautiful world, and life must be a wonderful thing, if poets can live and make us see beauty through their clear eyes. I am very grateful to you. And all through the perils and adventures of being reborn, I shall be glad to feel that you are thinking of me, and holding your thumbs. Will you, please? Do you know a painter-poet named Penny? At least, that is his real name. He writes under a slightly more suitable cognomen, but I have been unable, in our brief acquaintance, to drag it from him. He seems a very nice person indeed, and made a long call on me this morning. Wiggles wags. Yours, in at least the fifth heaven, ME GREEN HILL September 25 Diary, Dr. Denton brought the Penny-man to see me today. Perhaps as a flesh-and-blood flag of truce. At all events, it was more than an amusing experience. I was out-of-doors, propped up in my now very ambitious position, feeding Wiggles tea biscuits, and reading _The Lyric Hour_ for the millionth time. When the two men appeared, I was declaiming aloud, slightly drunk by the most marvellously blue-hazy day, and feeling tremendously strong and happy. After the introductions, "I've brought you good medicine, Miss Carroll," said Dr. Denton, indicating his embarrassed friend. "A real live poet! The only one in captivity! Eats out of the hand. But--I warn you he is modest. The proverbial violet is brazen compared to Wright. And he won't lionize worth a nickel, and I am sworn to silence concerning his prowess with the pen, and even his nom-de-guerre." Mr. Penny--isn't it a dreadful name!--and combined with Wright, too!--sat down limply in the chair beside me. "Please," he said, pleasantly and plaintively, "don't pay any attention to him." "I never do," I said in my sugariest tones. Dr. Denton lowered his inches to the ground, and there, sprawled like a starfish, regarded me brightly. "She's truthful," he assured his friend. "She never does. And you've no idea how she dislikes me. That handicaps you at the start, Wright, old fellow. Doesn't it, Miss Carroll?"