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MARY'S FORGET-ME-NOTS

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Part 11. The Doll's Dress

When Margaret was a young child she got a doll for Christmas which had the Clothes sewed on. We had a big scrap bag which I could use freely for sewing purposes if I wished to cut up squares for quilting etc. So, I took a piece of cotton material and made a doll's dress that could be taken off. On day, as she was wheeling her doll up Yates Street, she met Father McLaughlin who said to her, "That's a very pretty dress your doll is wearing. "Yes", she answered, "Mary made it out of my father's shirt-tail!" I was chagrined when he repeated it to me - but he laughed heartily and PRAISED ME FOR MY THRIFT!

When I was in the fourth grade, my mother and Grandpa Burke took Anna and me with them on our first trip to New York City. We were to visit Uncle Will and a nephew of Grandpa's, John Purcell who was a Customs Inspector in New York City. We stayed at the Purcell Apartment. First, Mr. Purcell took us down to the piers where the big ocean liners come in and we went on board one of them. I think this was the beginning of "wanderlust" for me. Then the two teen-age sons took over, showing us St. Patrick's Cathedral, the Museum of Natural History and, the one I remember vividly, The Metropolitan Museum of Fine Arts. There I saw Rosa Bonheur's "The Horse Fair". It covered the whole wall of one section because the horses were two-thirds life size. I wanted particularly to see this picture because I had a small print of it in my school note-book. When Friday Assembly came after I had returned, Miss Shay asked me to read my composition on Rosa Bonheur and her Masterpiece. This I could do with great glee and - in my plum-colored taffeta - I felt exactly right. So much for histrionics!! Many of you probably remember the large copy of "The Horse Fair" over the sofa in the living room at 200 West Yates. In the parlor "Mater Dolorosa" always hung above the Victorian rose velvet sofa. This picture, in a handsome walnut frame was a Christmas gift from Uncle Will to my mother many years ago. Of course, we never changed this picture and I think May Jackson (Aunt Jo Hanlon's daughter) still has it in the same place.

After my first trip abroad in 1924, I had framed two pictures which I had bought on my travels. One was a sepia, Sir Galahad, which we placed over the bookcase in the living room facing the entrance door. There was no objection to that - but it was always referred to as Sir Gallagher. In the dining room over the buffet, we hung a very good copy of Leonardo da Vinci's "Last Supper" replacing one of no particular merit. I explained to the family how the crude and insensitive Napoleon had invaded Italy and installed his troops in the convent at Milano where DaVinci's masterpiece covered the wall of the dining room. I pointed out the door which Napoleon had ordered cut in the picture to permit his horses to use this room as a stable. NOW, changing some of the old familiar pictures met with protest (more from my father than my mother) but later I knew my ideas would prevail because Uncle Tom said my father explained to him all about the door in the picture!

About 1900, Sylvan Beach was a lovely spot - sylvan and serene. We had a cottage there when we were at the swimming age. Besides our family, the Hanlons also stayed with us, and one Sunday we invited Uncle Tom's family (the Burke girls, Marge, Ann and Florence, among others) to spend the day. At one end of the grove were wild animal wagons - also a Merry-go-round. After church, my father took all of us for a ride (5 cents a ride) and, as he counted heads, there were seventeen children and himself. The manager asked my father, "Are all these children yours?". "Yes" he answered "but these don't count the ones at home. (wasn't he droll?).

WE were to eat at a long table in the grove - Aunt Jo's famous baked beans, ham sandwiches, deviled eggs, chocolate cake and a big pail of lemonade. This was to follow the merry-go-round and the swim. After the merry-go-round, off we tore to the beach, Finally, Aunt Jo blew the whistle for all to come to the table. Sixteen responded -- CHARLEY BURKE WAS MISSING! "BOY LOST!!" everyone cried and we ran in all directions - to the beach -and to the canal inlet where the water was very deep. No sign of Charley. All the other picnickers joined. After wild confusion - about half an hour later, my father appeared triumphantly, with Charley on his shoulders. He found him down at the animal wagons, absorbed in watching THE BOXING BEARS!

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