She is in the Third Reader but does not like stories in
books. I am in the Sixth Reader but just because I cannot say the
seven multiplication Table Miss Dearborn threttens to put me in
the baby primer class with Elijah and Elisha Simpson little
twins.
Sore is my heart and bent my stubborn pride,
With Lijah and with Lisha am I tied,
My soul recoyles like Cora Doctor's Wife,
Like her I feer I cannot bare this life.
I am going to try for the speling prize but fear I cannot get it.
I would not care but wrong speling looks dreadful in poetry.
Last Sunday when I found seraphim in the dictionary I was ashamed
I had made it serrafim but seraphim is not a word you can guess
at like another long one, outlandish, in this letter which spells
itself. Miss Dearborn says use the words you can spell and if you
cant spell seraphim make angel do but angels are not just the
same as seraphims. Seraphims are brighter whiter and have bigger
wings and I think are older and longer dead than angels which are
just freshly dead and after a long time in heaven around the
great white throne grow to be seraphims.
I sew on brown gingham dresses every afternoon when Emma Jane and
the Simpsons are playing house or running on the Logs when their
mothers do not know it. Their mothers are afraid they will drown
and aunt M.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35