My chief brilliancy lies in devising original methods of getting rid of my surplus in all sorts of odd and delightful ways, left untried, for the most part, by other people.

I 've been buying up splendid old trees in the outskirts of certain New England country towns,--trees that were in danger of being cut down for wood.

Twenty-five to forty dollars buys a glorious tree, and it is safe for ever and ever to give shade to the tired traveler and beauty to the landscape.

Each of my boys has his pet odd scheme for helping the world to 'go right.' Donald, for instance, puts stamps on the unstamped letters displayed in the Cambridge post-office, and sends them spinning on their way.

He never receives the thanks of the careless writers, but he takes pleasure in making things straight.
Paul writes me from Phillips Academy that this year he is sending the nine Ruggles children (a poor family of our acquaintance) to some sort of entertainment once every month.