was come. And there is the traveling-case of Minerva that the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes did make for me to carry all the christening robes of Minerva's children in, and more pieces of white cloth and little ribbons the pensée
girl did put into Minerva's traveling case for christening-time come next year. And there is the egg-shells Ben Jonson and Sir Francis Bacon and Pius VII and Nicholas Boileau and Edmund Spenser and Oliver Goldsmith and John Fletcher and Francis Beaumont and Cardinal Richelieu and Sir Walter Raleigh and the rest of Minerva's children hatched out of. I have thinks there is needs for me to carry those egg-shells in my apron when we go moves to the mill town, so they will not have breaks. And there is the little gray shawl Sadie McKibben so made for Nannerl Mozart.
And there is the little cap that Dear Love did make for my Louis II, le Grand Condé. It has got a feather in it. He did nibble the end off the feather, and he had mouse-wants to chew the tassel that she did put on the bag she did make for me to carry him in. And there is the ribbon bow off Elsie's garter she did give me for Felix Mendelssohn to wear. I have heard the women folks at the farmhouse say this world would be a nice world if there were n't any mice in it. I think it would be a most lonesome place. And there is the big handkerchief of the man of the long step that whistles most all of the time that he did give to me for Brave
