house. The piano was covered with a silken paisly
shawl, with fringes of gold. Little-bitty silk flowers were centered on the dining room table. Bitsy fruit made of wax was in a silver bowl on the buffet. Two crystal chandeliers hung down, and real candles were fitted into sockets. Servants were in the kitchen, wearing aprons while they prepared dinner. A butler wore livery white while he stood near the front door to greet the arriving guests, while in the front parlor the beautifully gowned ladies stood stiffly near poker
faced men.
Upstairs in the nursery were three children, and a
baby was in the crib, arms outstretched and ready to
be lifted up. A side building was attached, somewhat
to the rear, and in there was such a coach! And two
horses were in the stables! Golly day! Who would
ever dream people could make things so small! My
eyes jumped to the windows, drinking in the dainty
white curtains and heavy drapes, and dishes were on
the dining table, and silverware, and pots and pans
were in the kitchen cupboards-- all so tiny they were
no bigger than large green peas.
"Cathy," said Momma, putting her arm around
me, "look at this little rug. It is a genuine Persian,
made of pure silk. The rug in the dining room is an
Oriental." And on and on she extolled the virtues of
this remarkable plaything
"How can it look so new, yet be so old?" I asked. A dark cloud passed over Momma and shadowed
her face. "When it belonged to my mother, it was kept
in a huge glass box. She was allowed to look at it, but
she could never touch it. When it was given to me, my
father took a hammer and broke the glass box, and he
allowed me to play with everything--on the condition
that I would swear, with my hand on the Bible, not to
break anything."
"Did you swear and did you break anything'?"
questioned Chris.
"Yes, I swore, and yes, I did break something "