“o the dolls the purty dolls they is too fine for the fence corner so i puts them in bed with me and holds them when i says my prayers and sees them in my dreams. they left the words tuf and purty and outen outen the dictionary you tell the man what made it i am shore he will hate it he says ter means three ter with us means same as to. i knows now what correspondence, dictionary and Colonel mean. i spect when i read the book ter find out why they calls a gal a little Colonel but i cant say now. give me time. granny says i is set in my ways like grandpa and i is set ter learn “correspondence is nice but hard work but let us correspondence. last year when Christmas come i had roast chestnuts and to red apples. granny told me a tale about santaclaws i think you is it. the paper is all gone. i must stop “I salute you with all affection. T. J. whats the T. J. fer. i found it at the end of a letter in Jefferson’s Correspondence truly Jeannette i say that is my name sense you writ it T. J.” When Mr. Allen received the letter he was as proud of it as if it had been written him by the recently inaugurated Democratic president. He showed it to several of his girl friends, including Miss Bradley, who insisted upon keeping it, saying she wished to send some little presents the following Christmas. At that time he felt the world would have been a barren waste except for that young lady. The letter passed into her possession; was kept for several weeks and then forgotten and misplaced. Memory of the little mountain girl passed from her mind long before Christmas. John remembered her, merely as one might a visit from a dream fairy. An hour before John awoke on Christmas morning his mother came to his room and placing a chair near his bed, piled upon it his Christmas presents. There was a check from his father, handkerchiefs, neckties, gloves, a smoking jacket and even a stocking full of nuts and candies from his mother—he was her only child; still her little boy. There were several small remembrances from relatives and friends, a box of cigars from Miss Bradley; and beneath all a parcel in brown wrapping paper and unadorned by either Christmas seal, holly or ribbon. The breakfast gong sounded; it scarcely disturbed his dreams. Then the house boy came to his room and shook him saying: “Mars John, it’s near nine er’clock, your maw says git up. Christmas gift!” “Christmas morning and a fine day, cool, clear, a white Christmas! Sammy, you caught me, didn’t you? I will give you my last winter’s overcoat; it’s as good as new, or three one dollar bills; which shall it be?” “Boss, that’s a mighty fine overcoat, but I’s got ter git that yaller gal Melinda something, I guess I better take them three dollars.” “Well, here it is, Sammy.” Sammy went down the stairs muttering: “This hayr nigger ain’t no fool, not yit! Unless I gits drunk and loses this place, I’ll git that overcoat for a New Year’s gift.”