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Updated: June 21, 2025
You've forgotten that comparisons are odious. Our metier is not to compare, but to take what pleases us from each. 'How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower. Watts. You see, I'm still down among the W's. Oh, Dorothy, how can you sit there so placidly when the 'Consternation' has just faded from sight? Selfish creature!
I inflict all this on you because once you said that life is sometimes life and sometimes only a drama, and one must learn to distinguish tother from which, and up to now I have always put that down as 'Meg's clever nonsense. But this morning, it really does seem not life but a play, and it did amuse me enormously to watch the W's. Now Mrs. Wilcox has come in. Not if you open them.
The teacher tells her all the time not to talk so funny, not to get her t's and d's and her v's and w's mixed. Goodness knows, them letters is near enough alike to get them mixed sometimes. I mix them myself. Manda don't want her Lizzie made high-toned, for then nothing will be good enough for her any more." "Ach, I guess Miss Lee won't do that," said Aunt Maria.
I can't talk just so right," said Tillie apologetically, "like what you can. Yes, sometimes I say my we's like my w's, yet!" Miss Margaret laughed. "Bless your little heart!" she said, running her fingers through Tillie's hair. "But you would rather stay in school until four, wouldn't you, than go home to help your father in the celery-beds?"
She delivered her a little lecture in English, taking pains to produce the "th" and the American "r," though her "w's" were "v's." She urged me not to let the tea get cold. As I took hold of the tall, thin, cylindrical glass I noted that it was scrupulously clean and that its contents had a good clear color. I threw a glance around the room and I saw that it was well kept and tidy Mrs.
The letters, two W's, were so skilfully entwined, that even a compositor and compositors are people who can read almost anything would have been puzzled to decipher it. The letters were gilt, riveted on steel, and the wearers of the button-brooches were very soon dubbed by the non-recipients, 'Mr. Waffles' sheep.
"It's called 'Essays," said Ansell. "Then that's it. Mrs. Failing, you see, she wouldn't call it that, because three W's, you see, in a row, she said, are vulgar, and sound like Tolstoy, if you've heard of him." Ansell confessed to an acquaintance, and then said, "Do you think 'What We Want' vulgar?"
"I think he means," I said reasonable old Bertram, always trying to throw oil on the troubled w's "that if he does he will fall down the side of the house and break his neck." "Well, why not?" said Aunt Dahlia. I could see her point, of course, but it seemed to me that there might be a nearer solution.
"He's a great friend of mine." "All right. Well, I guess thass 'bout all, huh? I'll be going downstairs 'an starting in." "You can come here immediately?" "Sure. Got parlour-maid rig round at m' boarding-house round corner. Come back with it 'n ten minutes. Same dress I used when I w's working on th' Marling D'vorce case. D'jer know th' Marlings? Idle rich! Bound t' get 'nto trouble. I fixed 'm.
Her only trouble is with the w's and th's. She can't get them right yet." Signe smiled. "No, Mr. Ames, I'm no preacher. It's all so plain to me. De Bible says ve have a Fader in heaven, and I believe it. I also believe ve have 'a moder der, as de song says. I can't prove it from de book, but I just use my reason on dat."
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