Thursday, April 18, 2013

Amanuensis Monday--Elsie Crocker’s Manuscript, Part 12: Dresses

To read this project from the beginning, click here.

Merry Christmas! This installment isn’t quite in keeping with the season, but I believe that the Christmassy portion of Elsie’s manuscript has already been transcribed. So instead we’ll enjoy a little birthday and (previously quoted) Halloween merriment. The theme for this week is dresses.

One day my aunt made me a pink checked dress for my birthday. She gave me a party, so I was suppose to wear this dress. The guests arrived I took them out to see the animals, I was so proud of.

Aunt Sadie came out just as we all got seated on the top of the pig pen. The pen is open with a rail fence all around it. We were sitting on this rail. My aunt “told me what are you thinking sitting on a pig pen. I never made that dress for you to do this.” The pen was new and clean, I couldn’t see what the matter was. She got us together and marched us to the house. She told my mother and Mother said “I don’t see any thing wrong in that.” Aunt Sadie said “I never made that dress to sit on a pig pen.” We never got around to see the rest of the animals.

Talk about dresses Mother, sent away for a red plaid one, from a catalogue. I was in the first grade, I hated that dress. Someon must have hurt my feelings for not liking it. I hid it everywhere, under the bed, under the mattress, in the closet. She found it no matter what, she made me wear that dress. One day I took that dress and hid it under my gunny sack rug in my play house, which was on the canal bank. Mother found it but it was too late, it had mildewed and unable to wear. Mother couldn’t understand what was wrong with that dress. She said I was always so easy to get a long with. I couldn’t tell her why I didn’t like it. I never wore plaids again. I still don’t care for plaids.

These tent houses were made from large gunny sacks, our feed for our cattle and pigs and chicken, came in these large sacks.

Dad lets play with these sacks. So Walter and Bill made us a tent house, one for each of us. These were cool in the summertime, Idaho summers are real hot.

Walter cut out dishes, knives and forks and spoons. Out of tin sheeting Dad had.

On one Halloween we had our jack o lanterns on our (probably a apple box) table. Right close to the opening of our tents. Our dad was on the school board, we were having a program that night. Our teacher was over to our house, she wanted Dad and Mom to drive her on an errand, they were gone a short time, when they came back my teacher asked me to turn around. I turned, all the back of my dress was burned. But how? The only fire I was around was our jack o lanterns. We had lit our lanterns to show the teacher, when she got back. The wind must have blown my dress against the lit pumkin, as I was closing the door of my tent house. I must have sat doun real fast to have put the fire out. I always believed I had a guarding angel. Of course I had to wear my school dress to the program that night. This reminds me of a little poem Mother told me.
(The Girl)     Which dress should I wear?
               My blue one or my new one
               Or the one I wore last.
               The last one you wore last
               It’s the only one you have

Tocontinue with the next installment of Elsie's manuscript, click here. 

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