A Diary of Innocence: A Visit From Lady Turton
"...Stallholders trying by elaborate demonstrations to sell their goods. Shopkeepers trying to sell theirs by attractive windows. Oh! There was a bustle and a crush...'' Thirteen-year-old Mary Hutchinson records in her diary the scene in the market town of Thirsk.
Sunday, April 24th. Arose 8 a.m. I got up and lit the fire. It is a nice morning. I went for the milk. Then I washed up and did the potatoes. I set the dinner. I helped to wash up after dinner. I wrote to Auntie Aggie. Nellie and Alice are in bed unwell. It is very windy and showery today. It was Father’s turn to superintend the Sunday School. Retired 9 p.m.
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
H.W. Longfellow
This is one of the many beautiful and inspiring verses by a poet I admire very much, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. He at least fulfilled his own teaching and made his life sublime and left many footprints that will never be washed away from the sands of time. When I was in hospital Miss Curry sent me a little book of “Gems from Longfellow.” “Resignation” is one of the gems and a gem it is. The last two verses apply to any occasion of anxiety or trouble, and the whole is inspired with something unearthly. “Flowers” too is a rare poem. I think with Longfellow that there is something of the poet in flowers. I think it is such close acquaintance with Nature and a deep love for flowers that has enabled and inspired me to write a little poetry.
Monday, April 25th. Arose 8 a.m. It is a very windy day. This morning there were a few showers. I went to Thirsk to take the weekly order because Alice is not quite better and Mother cannot walk yet since she fell in the coalhouse on Good Friday. I got back just after dinner. There were a lot of people in the market. Stallholders trying by elaborate demonstrations to sell their goods. Shopkeepers trying to sell theirs by attractive windows. Oh! There was a bustle and a crush. Retired 9 p.m.
Tuesday, April 26th. Arose 8 a.m. It is a lovely day today, all sunny and bright. Mother has gone to Killington to Aunt Lizzie’s funeral. Alice went to see Dr. Mitchell. I went to meet her, but she did [not] walk back with me. I got just past Kilding’s. I got some delightful spring flowers. Dog violets, cowslips and primroses. They did smell sweet. Such a lot of primroses. I went up Nelson Lane. At night I mended my gloves. We are having some charming weather just. Retired 9 p.m.
Wednesday, April 27th. Arose 8 a.m. It is a very cold and windy day. I went out for a short walk in the afternoon but I soon went back in again, it was so cold and windy. Mother came home at night. It is nice to have her back again. Retired 9 p.m.
Thursday, April 28th. Arose 8 a.m. It is a fine day. Mother has got the washing done and got 18 everything dried. In the afternoon Lady Turton came to see us. She came to see me about a year ago and she liked the raffia basket I had made and wanted to buy it, but I did not want to sell it so I started making another one for her. I had not done anything at it for a long while. So I have started quite briskly to do it again. Lady Turton is very nice. She stayed about half an hour. At night I did some basket work. I make the baskets of raffia and band. Retired 9 p.m.
Friday, April 29th. Arose 8 a.m. It is a lovely day but rather windy. I have been playing a sort of game I have invented. It is like hockey with oneself. It is race day and many motor cars are passing. Personally I do not think there is anything wrong in racehorsing, and the horses are a fine breed of beautiful animals. It is the vileness that is associated with them. The wicked betting and such a great amount of money spent on it that might be put to a better purpose. Also people take too much interest and devote too much time to it. A little pleasant sporting minus the evils that usually accompany racing would be alright, but it is all some people think about. Retired 9 p.m.
Saturday, April 30th. Arose 8 a.m. It is a fine day. I have been playing club ball again. The motors are passing every minute. It is race day again. I will count the motors as they come back. I have made a poem up about the blackbird in the willow tree. I have counted the motors and there were 258 in one hour. At night I read the papers. Retired 9 p.m.
