How I pity you, and
how I pray you to give your children the privileges you have missed
through a belittling idea of your Creator.
Do you fancy God would punish beautiful young Rebecca for dancing, any
sooner than he would blight the willow-tree for waving its graceful arms
to the tune the wind-harps play?
Come up out of the jungles of ignorance and bigotry, my dear cousin,
and live on the hilltops and bring your children with you. For there you
will all find yourself nearer to God and to humanity.
To Mrs. Charles McAllister
_Formerly Miss Winifred Clayborne_
I am glad that for once you have written and asked my advice before you
began your course of action.
You wrote me after you entered Vassar and asked me what I thought of
your doing so.
You wrote me after you married Doctor McAllister, and asked me what I
thought of that. My reply was a wedding gift and a telegram of good
wishes. Now, after three years of married life, you write again and ask
me to decide a question which has caused some discussion between you and
the doctor.
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