"But I am not surprised.

Your mother wrote some beautiful things.

She scribbled verses all the time." "Oh, I didn't know that!" cried Betty.

"How I wish I could see some of them!" "You shall, my dear! I have an old portfolio in the library, full of such things.

Poems that she wrote and pictures that Joyce's mother drew; caricatures of the professors, the little pen and ink sketches of the places in the Valley we loved the best.