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Show 77 "Teacher's Pet! Teacher's Pet! " the other children taunted me. They also accused Mr. Harwood of showing me favoritism. "You let her read first because she's your pet!" said Emmy Lott. "You let her read last because she's your pet!" or "You let her read the middle part because it is the hardest and she's your pet! " The poor man was at his wit's end to seem fair. "What can I s a y ? " he asked Mama. "She is my pet. She does the things I'd like them all to do. She works her little head off. Of course she is my pet! " His wife agreed. They both wrote to me long after they had left Joseph, she from Anaheim: "We went through the orange processing plant today, and I thought of you. The largest oranges stayed at the top and were graded the finest. You are like these oranges. " He wrote from somewhere in Wyoming, his summer work, sent me for Christmas "The Story of the Other Wise Man, " but the things he said in the foreword, or fly-leaf interested me more than the text: "I don't know what you will do in your life, but whatever it is, whether you become an artist, a writer, a musician, you will do well. I recognize in you an a r t i s t ." You cleave unto such people. My letters to them were thirty-page epistles, detailing my joy with living. Finally, the one about my going in training, addressed, unwisely, to him, received an answer from her to the effect that I was a big girl now, and it was not becoming to write to a married man. I felt tremendously rebuked at this misunderstanding of the quality |