Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Wide stripes of pumpkin and somber navy comprise this evening's cravat. "And what may I get the little miss for her luncheon?" asked the footman, bowing low before the curly, redheaded mite perched at table. "Oh, Rolph," she sighed dramatically, "luncheon is dretful! Mayn't I have strawberries an' ice cream only? No san'wich? Please? Oh, so pretty please?" He laid a gloved hand upon her coppery head, smiled, and winked at her. "I think we shall find something pleasant in Cook's kitchen. You may leave it to me."
Brought to Life by Nance at 11:30 PM