common except determination. The Whites had
two very sporty automobiles — a Mercer and a Crane Simplex and Mrs.
White had horn buttons installed beside the back seat of each because,
she explained, she was always very nervous going around corners or
passing other automobiles, and her chauffeur never blew the horn enough
to satisfy her. She had a mild interest in horses and
a strong interest in stylish clothes, and she occasionally drove around
town in a straw pony cart with wire wheels and a tasseled sunshade. She
never rode horseback, but her children did. I well remember a horse show
at Red Acre Farm in Stow, where her son Billy and I were the
only boys exhibiting. There were a
great many girls — in fact, as many girls as there were blue
ribbons. When the lady judge handed us second prizes, she apologized and
said that had they known so many people were coming, they would have
ordered more blue ribbons; under the circumstances, it was only polite
to give what they had to the girls !
Mrs. White was a dreamy soul and amused herself by writing poetry
and communicating, through "table tipping" with her
son Timothy, who died in infancy. Immediately after their house
in Kendal Green burned, two of the younger children came to
stay with us. One day I found them sitting at a small table with
their fingertips resting gently on the edge.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Playing Timothy," replied the younger of the two, who was
only about four years old.
Between our dining-room and
front porch there was a narrow window, well above eye level, for letting
air in and keeping