No seven-year-old child ever enjoyed finery more than I did those
little shoes.
Gifts which grandma considered quite unsuitable came one day in two
neat wooden boxes about thirty inches in length, and eight in width and
depth. They were addressed to us individually, but in grandma's care.
When she removed the cover and a layer of cotton batting from
Georgia's, a beautiful French lady-doll was revealed, exquisitely
dressed, with a spray of flowers in her hair, and another that looped
one side of her lovely pink skirt sufficiently high to display an
elaborately trimmed petticoat. She was so fine in lace and ribbons,
yes, even watch and chain, that grandma was loath to let us touch her,
and insisted she should be handled in the box.
My gift was a pretty young Swiss matron in holiday attire, really more
picturesque, and quite as costly as Georgia's, but lacking that
daintiness which made the lady-doll untouchable. I had her to hug and
look at only a few moments; then both boxes with their precious
contents were put away for safe keeping, and brought forth only on
state occasions, for the inspection of special visitors.
Grandma did not want any nonsense put into our heads. She wished us to
be practical, and often quoted maxims to the effect that, "As the twig
is bent, the tree's inclined"; "All work is ennobling if well done";
"Much book-learning for girls is not conducive to happiness or
success"; and "The highest aim of a girl should be honesty, chastity,
and industry.
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