“Oh, Aunt Helen, tell me there is something about me not completely ugly!”
“…No one would dream of calling you plain, let alone ugly; brilliant is the word that best describes you”
** ** ** ** ** ** **
“Oh Uncle, I’ll wipe your kisses off! Your breath smells horribly of whisky and tobabco.”
“That’s what makes my kisses so nice!” He said after holding me at arm’s length for inspection.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
Sybylla: I think ugly girls should be shot at birth by their parents. It’s bad enough being born a girl…but ugly and clever… Aunt Gussie: Oh, fancy you’re clever, do you? Sybylla: I rather hope so. I’m done for if I’m not!
** ** ** ** ** ** **
I was poking around in the kitchen, doing something that I oughtn’t at the time I shouldn’t, and a servant girl tipped pot of boiling water over my right foot, scalding it rather severely. Aunt Helen and Grannie put me to bed where I yelled with pain for hours like a mad Red Indian.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
“Men are clumsy, stupid creatures regarding little things, but in their right place they are wonderful animals. If a buggy was smashed to smithereens, from one of their many mysterious pockets they would produce a knife and some string and put the wreck back to order in no time.”
** ** ** ** ** ** **
Uncle first said that he was glad to see I had the spirit of an Australian, and then threatened to put my nose above my chin if I failed to behave properly. Grannie remarked that I may have the spirit of an Australian, but I had by no means the manners of a lady.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
“Men are queer creatures, they have the most wonderful brains in some ways, but in little things they are as stupid as owls. It is no trouble to them to master geology, mineralology, anatomy and other things…but they couldn’t sew on a button or fix one’s hair to save their life.”
** ** ** ** ** ** **
“Let me go,” I persisted. “I often blow the bellows for Uncle Jay-Jay and think it great fun.”
The offer of my services being accepted, we set out.
When an emergency arose that necessiated Uncle Jay-Jay to shoe a horse himself, I always manipulated the bellows. He was always so exacting that I did it with great decorum, fearing his displeasure.
This case was different.
I worked the pole with such energy that it nearly blew the fire out of the pan, and sent ashes and sparks in a whirlwind around Harold.
“That the way to blow?” I asked demurely.
“Take things a little easier,” He replied.
I took them so easily that the fire was on its last gasp and the shoe was almost cold when required.
“This won’t do,” Said Harry.
I recommenced with such force that he had to retreat.
“Steady! Steady!” He shouted.
“Sure, O’i can’t plaze yez anyhows,” I replied
** ** ** ** ** ** **
I studied him attentively all the while. What were his ideas and sentiments it were hard to tell: he never expressed any. He was fearfully and wonderfully quiet. Yet his was an intelligent silence, not of that wooden brainless description which casts a damper on any company, neither was it of the remorse or dreaming order.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
I sat long by my writing table that night-thinking long, long thoughts, foolish thoughts, sad ones, merry ones, old headed thoughts, and the sweet sweet thoughts of youth and love. It seemd to me that men were not so invincible and invulnerable as I had imagined them-it appeared they had feeling and affections after all.
** ** ** ** ** ** **
