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I feel so badly about not getting home3 to spend Christmas with my sick daddy5. Until today I have thought that I
might be able to make it, and I have shed a good many bitter tears over
giving it up. For eight years it has been my dream to have a Christmas at
home, and this year I thought I would make it. But if you were here, my
father, you'd tell me to stand by my job and not to desert Mr. McClure6 in this crisis. It would mean
such a serious loss to him in money and influence not to have the March article7 come out--Everyone would think he
was beaten and scared out, for the articles8
are under such a glare of publicity and such a
fire of criticism. I had nothing to do with the January
article9 remember, my work e begins to appear in February10. Mr. McClure is ill from worry and anxiety, and though
he wants to let me go home and knows how homesick I am, he begs me to stay
here until after Xmas.
I am working night and day to buy my freedom and get to you, father, and it
helps me to think that I'm in staying I'm
doing just what you would do in my place and what you always taught me to
do. I feel like a poor excuse of a daughter to be away from you when you are
so ill, but my heart is with you and mother11 now, and the rest of me will be there12 before New Year's day.