from the pressed faery book
Monday 6 March 2006 | I like a cookie
6th July 1895.
Nanna wuldnt bleive me. Ettie wuldnt bleive me. Auntie Mercy wuldnt bleive me. But I got one. Now theyv got to bleive me.
8th July 1895.
I cort another faery. It was flying passed my window but i was too quick for it it didn’t see me cuming up behind it but i only cort a bit of it.
10th Aug 1896.
I new ther was faereys behind the potting shed. So I went and sat very still with my book open on my lap and the faereys was curius and inkwizitf and they all came round to look at me and one landed on my book and I went SNAP! I banged the book shut and I cort the faerey it is reelly bewtiful one. I like it best.
11th Aug 1899.
A great many faeries came bzzing round me todday. They seemed quite exciteed and kept glaring at me and flying right up my nose. But I still caught one. I am going to call her FLORIZAL. She is an young fairy who was a little bit more daring than the rest. I wonder what she did in Fairy Land, and how old she was? Perhaps she was ten years old—perhaps thirty—perhaps thirty thousand. It’s hard to know what is old with fairies.
13th Jan 1903.
Today is my fifteenth birthday. I am grown-up at last. Mamma and Pappa invited me to have supper with them. It felt very strange. Mamma gave me a toasting fork and a pair of white gloves. Governess gave me a copy of The Household Compendium—an invaluable guide to all householders—and so of little interest to me. Cousin Nicholas gave me a photographic camera. As I was getting into bed, I noticed a small fairy sitting under the wardrobe. It was crying. I bent down and picked it up! It was so upset it hardly seemed to notice or care. I set it down on the washstand and examined it. One wing appeared to be broken. It had little marks on its dress and its wand was bent. “What’s the matter?” I asked. But it just went on sobbing its heart out. This was the first time I had ever spoken to a fairy, so I said: “What is your name?” It looked up at me for a moment and then mumbled something like: “Pipskintinkle.” But I couldn’t get another word out of it. So I got out my flower pressing book and SNAP! I got it.
post your glowing encomium (or bitter philippic) »
Follow this heated, lively discussion through its very own feed; also, you can pingback or trackback from your own doubtlessly much more interesting site.
