Evidently the Professor hadn't stocked any
of his works. I was tickled to see that after all little Redbeard
didn't know _everything_ about literature.
After that I debated whether to go to church or to write letters.
Finally I decided in favour of the letters. First I tackled Andrew.
I wrote:
The Moose Hotel, Bath,
Sunday morning.
DEAR ANDREW:
It seems absurd to think that it's only three days since I left
Sabine Farm. Honestly, more has happened to me in these three days
than in three years at home.
I'm sorry that you and Mr. Mifflin disagreed but I quite understood
your feelings. But I'm very angry that you should have tried to
stop that check I gave him. It was none of your business, Andrew.
I telephoned Mr. Shirley and made him send word to the bank in
Woodbridge to give Mifflin the money. Mr. Mifflin did not swindle me
into buying Parnassus. I did it of my own free will. If you want to
know the truth, it was your fault! I bought it because I was scared
_you_ would if I didn't. And I didn't want to be left all alone on
the farm from now till Thanksgiving while you went off on another
trip.
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