Part 9

“My pettieskirt hath a scallop,” she said. “Mayhap that will help thy history.”

“Oh,” cried Mrs. Curran, “we are discovered!”

“Yea,” laughed Patience—she must have laughed, “and tell thou of my buckled boots and add a cap-string.”

Further illustrative of her feminine characteristics and of her interest in dress, as well as of a certain fun-loving spirit which now and then seems to sway her, is this record of a sitting upon an evening when Mr. Curran and Mr. Hutchings had gone to the theater, and the ladies were alone:

Patience.—“Go ye to the lighted hall to search for learning? Nay, ’tis a piddle, not a stream, ye search. Mayhap thou sendest thy men for barleycorn. ’Twould then surprise thee should the asses eat it.”

Mrs. H.—“What is she driving at?”

Mrs. P.—“The men and the theater, I suppose.”

Mrs. H.—“Patience, what are they seeing up there?”

Patience.—“Ne’er a timid wench, I vum.”

Mrs. C.—“You don’t approve of their going, do you, Patience?”

Patience.—“Thee’lt find a hearth more profit. Better they cast the bit of paper.”

Mrs. C.—“What does she mean by paper? Their programmes?”

Patience.—“Painted parchment squares.”

Mrs. P.—“Oh, she means they’d better stay at home and play cards.”

Mrs. H.—“Are they likely to get their morals corrupted at that show?”

Patience.—“He who tickleth the ass to start a braying, fain would carol with his brother.”

Mrs. C.—“If the singing is as bad as it usually is at that place, I don’t wonder at her disapproval. But what about the girls, Patience?”

Patience.—“My pettieskirt ye may borrow for the brazens.”

Mrs. P.—“Now, what is a pettieskirt? Is it really a skirt or is it that ruff they used to wear around the neck?”

Patience.—“Nay, my bib covereth the neckband.”

Mrs. H.—“Then, where do you wear your pettieskirt?”

Patience.—“’Neath my kirtle.”

Mrs. C.—“Is that the same as girdle? Let’s look it up.”

Patience.—“Art fashioning thy new frock?”

Mrs. H.—“I predict that Patience will found a new style—Puritan.”

Patience.—“’Twere a virtue, egad!”

Mrs. H.—“You evidently don’t think much of our present style. In your day women dressed more modestly, didn’t they?”

Patience.—“Many’s the wench who pulled her points to pop. But ah, the locks were combed to satin! He who bent above might see himself reflected.”