That evening all the children, including little Charlie, were busy writing letters to the absent father.

I have not room to print them all, but as this was Charlie's first epistolary effort, it may interest some of my youthful readers to see it.

The mistakes in spelling will be excused on the score of Charlie's literary inexperience.

This is the way it commenced: "DEER FARTHER: I am sorry you hav to live in a log hous stuck up with mud.

I shud think the mud wood cum off on your close.