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Updated: May 17, 2025
Dodd contrived to sigh interrogatively. Julia, who understood her every accent, reminded her that "smalls" was the new word for "little go." "What does it all mean?" inquired mamma, "'gooseberry pie'? and 'the snaffle'? and 'ploughed' ?" "Well, the gooseberry pie is really too deep for me: but 'ploughed' is the new Oxfordish for 'plucked. O mamma, have you forgotten that?
Edward's letter was short enough, and Mrs. Dodd allowed Julia to read it to her, which she did with panting breath, and glowing cheeks, and a running fire of comments. "'Dear Mamma, I hope you and Ju are quite well " "Ju," murmured Mrs. Dodd plaintively. "'And that there is good news about papa coming home. "'Cramming, love?" "Yes, that is the Oxfordish for studying." " For smalls." Mrs.
'Plucked' was vulgar, so now they are 'ploughed. 'For smalls; but I hope I shall not be, to vex you and Puss." "Heaven forbid he should be so disgraced! But what has the cat to do with it?" "Nothing on earth. Puss? that is me. How dare he? Did I not forbid all these nicknames and all this Oxfordish, by proclamation, last Long." "Last Long?" "Hem! last protracted vacation."
A pleasant, Oxfordish room, with the brown paper and plain green curtains of the college days of these women, and Dürer engravings, and sweet peas in a bowl, and Frances Carr stirring bread and milk over a gas ring. Frances Carr was small and thirty-eight, and had a nice brown face and a merry smile.
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