Monthly Archives: January 2013

A Winter For Singing Birds – January 1901

Tuesday afternoon. Was there ever such a winter for the singing of birds This morning at dawn there was a chorale in the the trees all around the house. The robin, the wren, the hedge sparrow, and two whose strains … Continue reading

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Poet of Domestic Affection – January 1901

Longfellow is, par excellence, the poet to learn off by heart. He has so many pieces temptingly short, perfect in form, that go singing through the brain as one reads them, that you will not be able to forget them … Continue reading

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That Umbrella – Saturday January 1902

Oh the muddy skirts and the muddier boots! The roads are in their nastiest condition. The tenacious mud, after a thaw, lifts at every step and somehow we always seem to be carrying things and to have no hand at … Continue reading

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Invisible Thistles – Friday January 1902

These days I must go about with a needle in my blouse front with which to extract tiny invisible thistles from fingers which have been carrying hay and straw half the morning. They are so light covered as to be … Continue reading

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Hughoc, Davoc and Peggoc – January 1901

If the suffix oc (not necessarily a diminutive) be peculiar to Burns and Ayrshire then its significance cannot be perfectly appreciated outside that county. It is familiar, humorous, tender, sometimes irate. The mother speaks of “oor Hughoc” when she is … Continue reading

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What a Woman Should Read – January 1900

In the days of our grandmothers — those thrifty, industrious women — reading was a crime, unless out of The Book. Secular reading was idleness and worse. Women of our class were not sufficiently educated to be able to understand … Continue reading

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Such a Day of Bustle – Tuesday January 1902

To-day there is so much to do, so little time to write — churning; clothes to fold and put away; a few things to be ironed; articles to be mended, sorted out; baking bread; mincing suet; customers for milk and … Continue reading

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Moss Litter in “Somebody’s” Desk – Monday January 1902

The charm of this climate of ours is undeniable. “Custom cannot stale its infinite variety.” The sky cloudless, the landscape powdered white with frost, and the sun shining benignantly from its rise till its setting; whitening our clothes on the … Continue reading

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Beware the Smooth Man – January 1901

An unknown reader is afraid that I be uplifted by the anonymous admiration of one man and sends me the following warning : Youth unadmonished by a guide Will trust to any fair outside An error soon corrected For who … Continue reading

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A Scottish Byre Lamp – Saturday 1902

A letter this morning from a friend in Paris, with a very tempting suggestion that I might join her in a pension there. It would be so good for my health, physical and mental, she says. The lectures delightful, the … Continue reading

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