every thing with me unless she is sick, such as today she can scarcely breathe so must lie in the dark in Aunt Cecelias room with shades pulled and shutters drawn and the hissing spirit lamp in the corner. The camphor smell is so strong it fills up my head and flies into my bones whenever I sneak in there which I am not supposed to do. I am supposed to let Mary White rest. Aunt Cecelia bumbles around like a big bee driving Mary White just crazy.
Meanwhile I have been picking up interesting bones for Mary White’s bone collection, now I am making one too. See? Here is a possum skull, here is a big cow leg bone, here is a turkey foot ripped off the barn wall where somebody had nailed it, I know this one is cheating.
Aunt Cecelia says Mary White will be up and about by the end of the week. I hope this is true for we have so many things to do and take care of. She has been here for over a month now, I can not believe it. The time flies along so fast. Now it is July with its hot thick yellow days. Dog days, Old Bess says, if you get a cut or a sore place now it will never heal. But we dont care, we slip off to the river where we have a Willow House right out in the running water just downstream from where Washington took us fishing that time with Spence.
It is cool and green in the Willow House. Long lacy branches fall down all around us making a screen for perfect privacy, so none can see where we sit on our three white rocks to read or eat a fancy lunch on magnolia leaf plates. Liddy lets us take whatever we want from the kitchen without a word. Time you have you some fun, girl, Liddy said to me. While we are in the Willow House, time stops still it seems, and all we can hear is the music of the river in our ears. But we are not alone for a whole big family of lizards live here too, the little ones so fast it breaks your heart to see them move like bright green streaks across the rocks. An old old granddaddy snake suns himself back on the bank then slides into the water so slow its like he is not even moving but then he is gone.
And the most exciting part — though we have not seen them yet — Mary White and I have reason to believe that a band of fairies comes here also, Mary White knows all about fairies and now I do too. They wear little green jackets and red caps with an owl feather sticking up at a jaunty angle. They come to ride the frogs and hunt the skittery waterbugs that play back there in the shallows. They live on fried waterbugs and flower pudding, Mary White says. One day we surprised these fairies and almost saw them — but they flew away fast on their gossamer wings leaving only a rainbow shimmer in the air and an owl feather floating in the little pool by the littlest rock where it went round and round in a magic way for as long as we watched, until Mary White plucked it up from the water to put in our collection of phenomena. Mary White says the fairies are coming back soon, she can feel it. She says we must go to the river in the light of the moon if we really mean to see them. So we are planning to do this on the next full moon, I can not wait.
Another thing we play is dolls, though my china doll Margaret is very old, having belonged first to Julia and Rachel when they were girls. Her painted hair was all gone on one side but now Mary White and I have made her some more with bootblack, so she looks fine, and her blue silk ballgown is especially elegant. Underneath she wears a chemise, a petticoat, and pantalettes, feather-stitched and herringboned, made by Julia. Mary White can not get over Margarets pantalettes!
And in truth I like Margaret old as she is far better than Mary Whites wax doll Fleur which is much larger, able to open and shut her eyes and say Mama and Papa quite plainly. But Fleur is too much of a baby doll for me. I like a doll who is old enough for romances and flirtations.
And guess what?
Margaret has had many romances and several marriages already because now Mary White and me
Meanwhile I have been picking up interesting bones for Mary White’s bone collection, now I am making one too. See? Here is a possum skull, here is a big cow leg bone, here is a turkey foot ripped off the barn wall where somebody had nailed it, I know this one is cheating.
Aunt Cecelia says Mary White will be up and about by the end of the week. I hope this is true for we have so many things to do and take care of. She has been here for over a month now, I can not believe it. The time flies along so fast. Now it is July with its hot thick yellow days. Dog days, Old Bess says, if you get a cut or a sore place now it will never heal. But we dont care, we slip off to the river where we have a Willow House right out in the running water just downstream from where Washington took us fishing that time with Spence.
It is cool and green in the Willow House. Long lacy branches fall down all around us making a screen for perfect privacy, so none can see where we sit on our three white rocks to read or eat a fancy lunch on magnolia leaf plates. Liddy lets us take whatever we want from the kitchen without a word. Time you have you some fun, girl, Liddy said to me. While we are in the Willow House, time stops still it seems, and all we can hear is the music of the river in our ears. But we are not alone for a whole big family of lizards live here too, the little ones so fast it breaks your heart to see them move like bright green streaks across the rocks. An old old granddaddy snake suns himself back on the bank then slides into the water so slow its like he is not even moving but then he is gone.
And the most exciting part — though we have not seen them yet — Mary White and I have reason to believe that a band of fairies comes here also, Mary White knows all about fairies and now I do too. They wear little green jackets and red caps with an owl feather sticking up at a jaunty angle. They come to ride the frogs and hunt the skittery waterbugs that play back there in the shallows. They live on fried waterbugs and flower pudding, Mary White says. One day we surprised these fairies and almost saw them — but they flew away fast on their gossamer wings leaving only a rainbow shimmer in the air and an owl feather floating in the little pool by the littlest rock where it went round and round in a magic way for as long as we watched, until Mary White plucked it up from the water to put in our collection of phenomena. Mary White says the fairies are coming back soon, she can feel it. She says we must go to the river in the light of the moon if we really mean to see them. So we are planning to do this on the next full moon, I can not wait.
Another thing we play is dolls, though my china doll Margaret is very old, having belonged first to Julia and Rachel when they were girls. Her painted hair was all gone on one side but now Mary White and I have made her some more with bootblack, so she looks fine, and her blue silk ballgown is especially elegant. Underneath she wears a chemise, a petticoat, and pantalettes, feather-stitched and herringboned, made by Julia. Mary White can not get over Margarets pantalettes!
And in truth I like Margaret old as she is far better than Mary Whites wax doll Fleur which is much larger, able to open and shut her eyes and say Mama and Papa quite plainly. But Fleur is too much of a baby doll for me. I like a doll who is old enough for romances and flirtations.
And guess what?
Margaret has had many romances and several marriages already because now Mary White and me
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