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Updated: June 18, 2025
"There are twenty-two ties, nineteen for the girls, and one each for Mrs. Vane, Carrie's mother and Aunt Maria; there's a silk tie for Rosslyn McKittrick I never would have thought of using up that bias piece for such a thing if I hadn't seen Jessie making her little brother one. I don't know which I like best, Carrie's blue slippers or Chrystobel's pink ones they are both so dear.
All about, pressing against the veranda rails, crowding to windows and doors, and lining the roofs, were the people of the town, principally women and non-combatants. As the chimes of the old cathedral rang out the hour of twelve, the infantry and cavalry presented arms. Every American uncovered, and Captain McKittrick hoisted the stars and stripes.
McKittrick would like part of it to be Vane after the doctor. Mr. McKittrick works in the Silver Legion Mines, so I suppose he wouldn't mind if part of the name was Mr. Carson's. I don't like Frederick very well, so it would have to be Carson. Well, Rosslyn Brooks Carson Vane sounds quite pretty very pretty I like it ever so much. I wonder what Mrs. McKittrick will think of it."
Finding out where I came from, and that I lived near Ballston Spa, he said, "You must know my son-in-law, William H. McKittrick." I replied that I did, that I knew him when he was a boy, and that he and his family were my parishioners, when I was Rector of Christ Church, Ballston Spa, twenty-eight years ago. Said he, "William distinguished himself in the Cuban War.
"Rosslyn Lyle no, that won't do; it is too hard to pronounce. Rosslyn Leander that is almost as bad. Rosslyn simply won't go with any name beginning with 'L. Rosslyn Thomas so he will be named after Tom; but then probably Mrs. McKittrick doesn't like Thomas for a name. Few people do, though I think it is rather pretty when it belongs to someone else but a Catt. Rosslyn Brooks after teacher.
He passed on, swung into the little-used trail which brought him first to the McKittrick cabin where a double-barrelled shot-gun six months ago had brought Bill Royce his blindness; then to the lumber-camp a mile further on. Both were on the bank of Packard's Creek; the flume constructed by Joe Woods's men followed the line of the stream.
"That's so; I forgot it just for a minute. I'm sure Rosalie could never have been any nicer than you are, and I don't believe Rosslyn was nicer than Jerome, though Jerome does tease me dreadfully sometimes. He doesn't mean to, and he always tells me he is sorry. I like the name Jerome, but Mrs. McKittrick says she hates it, so it would never do to suggest that."
McKittrick when the last crumb of cake had disappeared and the last drop of lemonade vanished. "I'm going to lay him under the wagons where it is coolest, and you children play down there by that other clump of trees, or else he won't sleep a wink." "We're going to tell stories and listen to Mr. Carson's talking machine for awhile," volunteered Susie, "so we won't make much noise.
"He used to sneak for the McKittrick cabin where he kep' an ol' muzzle-loadin' shot-gun, an' shot quail aroun' them springs up there when he'd ought to be workin'. Then he'd come in an' brag, tellin' how he'd never missed a shot.
"You thought it was your trunk," giggled the lisping midget who faced her in the doorway, "but it ain't. I am Cassandra Hertford. Carrie is my room-mate. Isn't she a darling? She told me you and Mercedes McKittrick had come, and I had to run in to see you. Carrie has gone to see about the trunks. She said she would introduce you when she came back, but I couldn't wait. Where's Mercedes?
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