Identifier: diaryofbirthdayd00dowe (find matches)
Title: The diary of a birthday doll
Year: 1908 (1900s)
Authors: Dow, Ethel C. (Ethel Constance), b. 1890
Subjects:
Publisher: Philadelphia E. Stern & Co., Inc.
Contributing Library: Information and Library Science Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Digitizing Sponsor: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

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you wear an apron. She rummaged in the box in which she kept thegirls clothes, of which there were heaps, until shepicked out a simple little pinafore without a bit oftrimming. Now this will do very nicely, she said, as sheslipped the pinafore on me and tried to fasten it. Ohmy! the lower buttons off. I couldnt put an apronwith a button off on my child, or Id teach it to beuntidy, and that would never do. She ran off again, and came back with grandmaswork-basket, settled herself comfortably in a chair, withher feet on a footstool, just as she must have seen hermamma do; placed me flat on my stomach on her lap,till I expected my eyes to drop out on the floor anysecond, and began to sew on my new apron. After thefourth stitch—it must have been the fourth, because myskin had been pricked four times—she rested for aninute and said aloud: Now, maybe I should have waited till mammahad come home, because then I could have gotten abutton; but I guess this will do just as well; and after48
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She placed me flat on my stomach in her lap, till I expectedmy eyes would drop out on the floor WEDNESDAY—I GET A NEW DRESS eighteen stitches, or, at least, eighteen pricks, she gaveme a little tap on the back, and said: Now youre all right, Dolly; Ive sewed your apronup nice and tight, and you cant possibly get out of itunless I take the thread out for you. Its much saferthan a button. Gladys burst out laughing. Oh, but I was angry,and I said, as haughtily as could be: I am perfectlysatisfied with any style of apron my mother (I saidmother instead of mamma to sort of scare her) choosesfor me, and I dont see what on earth you are laughingat, Miss Gladys. Maud said Sh! and looked surprised; but I didfeel sore, on account of the needle pricks, I guess (andoh, it is so babyish to be sewn up in an apron, just likea—like a—a—a—sausage!) and wouldnt stop for any-body. Mamma Lu put us to bed, though, right away,and that settled the argument. Lets see. Did anything else of importanc

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