April 22, 1877.
My dear Mithery-
Your last Sunday's letter was a great triumph. I have not had the pleasure of unfolding so voluminous a letter in a long time at least not one from New Haven.
I have about made up my mind to spend the Commencement week at home and shall probably invite Millie to spend most of it with me, as I find she was only going to be in N.H. class-day, and I think she ought to be there the whole time.
We had dreadful times getting up their costumes, especially their bills. These we finally made by crumpling up newspaper & winding it into the desired shape, and afterwards covering it with bright buff paper on which Lill & Jane painted long black lines to represent the division between the upper & lower bill
First we tied pillows out to the unfortunate victims backs, the old hen had to have two on; then we tied their bills on their foreheads with a string and then put on a little tight
Jane was the most
Her head had a peculiarly wicked look, & her tail was the bobbiest and most upstart production ever seen. Lill was the one little brown chicken, & was made out of a calico wrapper with one of Jane's aprons sewed into a cap for her head.
When we had dressed them all except the few last touches, the preceeding exercises of Beta were hardly begun, the space withing the screens was small any way and particularly so when the animals were seated around and we had to look out and not hit their tails or bills when we stirred.
Sometimes Jane's legs would ache and then she would wave them wildly around, being sure to hit Minnie's tail, and set it to crackling. Finally she became weary and leaned her head against the wall, her attitude in most striking contrast to her eyes & ridiculous tail.
Finally "A Barnyard Scene" was announced. We added a few last pins & pats and then turned back the
The audience were so pleased that they all trotted out once more, and afterwards the girls came in and examined the birds. It was, altogether, a most
I am to be waitress Founder's Night, so yesterday purchased materials for an apron to wear on that occasion. I intend that it shall be something quite cute and pretty if I can make it so.
After our next play, when I shall have something to say I think I'll have to write to Grandmother B, but I can't get up anything for Ned. Do tell him how awfully busy I am all the time.
What about that acquiescence to my proposal concerning a box? We're awful hungry. Love to all-—
Mary S. Morris.