親愛的長腿叔叔：

    我要告訴你一個很壞、很壞、很壞的消息，不過我不想從這裹寫起；我想先讓你高興一下。

    潔魯莎˙艾麥特當上了作家。第二期《月刊》第一頁登了我的詩《塔樓遠眺》，對大一學生來說，這是極大的榮耀。昨晚從教堂出來，英文老師把我叫住，說詩寫得很動人，只是第六行的音步太多了。如果你真想要讀，我會寄一份給你。

    讓我想想還有什麼趣事。哦，對了！我在練習溜冰，已經可以自在地滑來滑去。我還學會了從掛在體育館屋頂上的繩索上溜下來，跳高成績達到三英尺六英寸，希望不久會跳過四英尺。

    今天早上，阿拉巴馬主教的講道十分精彩。他的題目是「你們不要論斷人，免得你們被論斷」。就是說要原諒別人的缺點，而不要用嚴厲的批判來打擊別人。真希望你聽到過這一節。

     這是個陽光燦爛，晃得人眼花的冬日下午，杉樹上掛著冰柱，世上的一切都給雪壓著，唯有我除外，我給悲傷壓著。

     現在輪到那個壞消息了―朱蒂！鼓起勇氣，妳一定要講。

    你現在的心悄真的很好嗎？我的數學和拉丁語作文兩門課不及格。我現在正在補習，準備下個月補考。如果你很失望，我就很難過，否則我一點也不在意，因為我在課外學到了很多東西。我讀了十七本小說，大量的詩歌，包括《浮華世界》、《理查•費福羅》、《愛麗絲夢遊奇境》等必讀小說，還有愛默生的《散文集》、羅克哈特的《史考特的平生》、吉薘的《羅馬帝國》第一卷，和卻利尼的《生平》讀到一半―他真的有意思：他脊在清晨出外閒逛，殺死個人再回來吃早餐。

    你瞧，爸爸，這比死啃拉丁語收穫大多了。我保證下次再也不會考不及格，這次你能原諒我嗎？

悲悔的朱蒂

星期日

Sunday

Dear Daddy-Long-Legs,

     I have some awful, awful, awful news to tell you, but I won’t begin with it; I’ll try to get you in a good humor first.

     Jerusha Abbott has commenced to be an author.  A poem entitled “From My Tower” appears in the February Monthly―on the first page, which is a very great honor for  freshman.  My English instructor stopped me on the way out form chapel last night, and said it was a charming piece of work except for the sixth line, which had too many feet.  I will send you a copy in case you care to read it.

      Let me see if I can’t think of something else pleasant―oh, yes!  I’m learning to skate, and can glide about quite respectably all by myself.  Also I’ve learned how to slide down a rope from the roof of the gymnasium. And I can vault a bar three feet and six inches high―I hope shortly to pull up to four feet.

     We had a very inspiring sermon this morning preached by the Bishop of Alabama.  His text was; “Judge not that ye be not judged.’  It was about the necessity of overlooking mistakes in others, and not discouraging people by harsh judgments.  I wish you might have heard it.

     This is the sunniest. Most blinding winter afternoon. With icicles dripping from the fir trees and all the world bending under a weight of snow―except me, and I’m bending under a eight of sorrow.

     Now for the news―courage, Judy!―you must tell.

     Are you surely in a good humor?  I flunked mathematics and Latin prose.  I am tutoring in them, and will take another examination next month.  I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, but otherwise I don’t care a bit because I’ve learned such a lot of things novels and bushels of poetry―really necessary novels like Vanity Fair and Richard Feverel and Alice in Wonderland.  Also Emerson’s Essays and Lockhart’s[(1794-1854)羅克哈特，蘇格蘭作家。] Life of Scott and the first volume of Gibbon’s[(1737-1794)吉薘，英國歷史學家。] Roman Empire and half of Benvenuto Cellini’s[(1500-1571)卻利尼，義大利雕塑家，著有自傳。] Life―wasn’t he entertaining?  He used to saunter out and casually kill a man before breakfast.

     So you seem Daddy, I’m much more intelligent that if I’d just stuck to Latin.  Will you forgive me this once if I promise never to flunk again?

Yours in sackcloth,

Judy