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Updated: May 8, 2025
Forty years ago and yet even to-day the perfume of a roasted apple never greets me but I stand once more in the old-fashioned room listening to the sound of Nathan's flute; I see again the stately, silver-haired, high-bred mistress of the mansion with her kindly greeting, as she moves among her guests; I catch the figure of that old darkey with his brown, bald head and the little tufts of gray wool fringing its sides, as he shuffles along in his blue coat and baggy white waistcoat and much-too-big gloves, and I hear the very tones of his voice as he pushes his seductive tray before me and whispers, confidentially: "Take a li'l ob de apple, sah; dat's whar de real 'spression oh de toddy is."
You is a genlman, and berry polite, Missa Qui, and Miss Rosa is beyond 'spression. Dere is few ob de fair sec equal Miss Rosa. Let me see," he continued, with a thoughtful air, and looking on the ground, "whedder I not disappoint some genlman. When I come round de corner I see Missa Tracy boy going toward my house. Now, probably he bring invite for me.
I leave my best friend, Frances, my grey enamel and diamond bracelet, my first edition of Wilhelm Meister, with the music folded up in it, and my Burne Jones ''spression' drawings. Tell her I leave a great deal of my life with her, and that I never can cease to be very near her. She must not think it bad luck. I suppose some one else possessed it once, and, after all, it isn't as if I died in it!
She keeck me when she is little, and pull my hair, when I no give her the dulces; but I no mine, for she have the good heart and so sweet spression when she no is mad and always maka very kind with me. I comb her hair and I see she look very cross and I ask her why, and she say she hate mens, they are fools, and womens too.
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