Eight Cousins

​I have been reading the most little interesting book, by Louisa May Alcott! It is called "Eight Cousins.” I have had this book for several years and never really read it. I have thumbed through it and found some cute quotes that I used in the signature line on my group “Feminine Ways”, but I never had the urge to read the whole book until the last couple of days. I wish I had read it sooner…For it is full of all sorts of old-fashioned descriptions and good advice!

If time permits I want to write some excerpts in the days to come that really caught my eye.

“But the “delicate little creter” seemed all the better for her trip, and ran up the steps looking rosy, gay, and disheveled, to be received with lamentation by Aunt Plenty, who begged her to go and lie down at once.
“Oh, please don’t! We have come to tea with our cousin, and we’ll be as good as gold if you’ll let us stay, Aunty,” clamored the boys, who not only approved of “our cousin,” but had no mind to lose their tea, for Aunt Plenty’s name but feebly expressed her bountiful nature.
“Well dears, you can; only be quiet, and let Rose go and take her iron and be made tidy, and then we will see what we can find for supper,” ***said the old lady as she trotted away, followed by a volley of directions for the approaching feast.
"Orange Marmalade" for me, Aunty.”
“Plenty of "Sugar Plum Cake", please.”
“Tell Debby to trot out the "Baked Pears"
“I’m your man for lemon pie, ma’am.”
“Do you have fritters? Rose will like ‘em.” 
“She’d rather have tarts, I know.” (Both of these really make me wonder exactly what fritters and tarts were considered back in those days.)
When Rose came down, fifteen minutes later, with every curl smoothed and her most beruffled apron, she found the boys loafing about the long hall, and paused on the halfway landing to take an observation, for till now she had not really examined her new-found cousins.”

My Lemon Pie
Note: Tea was sometimes referred to as "supper" in their culture. I think it's more delightful, and I could probably lighten up a bit as to my menu choices for supper, espcially in the summertime. It just sounds lighter and more pleasant! 

Another excerpt: "Phebe appeared with a cup of coffee. “Debby told me to bring this and help you get up,” she said, opening her black eyes wide, as if she wondered how on earth “the sailor man” got there.
“I’m all dressed, so I don’t need any help. I hope that is good and strong,” added Rose, eyeing the steaming cup with an eager look. But she did not get it, for a brown hand took possession of it as her uncle said quickly: “Hold hard, my lass, and let me overhaul that dose before you take it. Do you drink this strong coffee every morning, Rose?”
“Yes, sir, and I like it. Aunty says it ‘tones’ me up, and I always feel better after it.”
“This accounts for the sleepless nights, the flutter your heart gets into at the least start, and this is why that cheek of yours is pale yellow instead of rosy red. No more coffee for you my dear, and by and by you’ll see that I am right. Any new milk downstairs, Phebe?”
“Yes, sir, plenty, right in from the barn.”
“That’s the drink for my patient. Go bring me a pitcherful, and another cup; I want a draught myself.”
“Uncle, are you going to make me eat oatmeal?” asked Rose in a tragic tone. “Don’t you like it?” “I detest it!” answered Rose, with all the emphasis which a turned up nose, a shudder, and a groan could give to the three words.
“You are not a true Scotchwoman, if you don’t like the ‘parritch.’ It’s a pity, for I made it myself, and thought we’d have such a good time with all that cream to float it in. Well, never mind.” And he sat down with a disappointed air.
Rose had made up her mind to be obstinate about it, because she did heartily “detest” the dish; but as Uncle Alec did not attempt to make her obey, she suddenly changed her mind and thought she would.
“I’ll try to eat it to please you, Uncle; but people are always saying how wholesome it is, and that makes me hate it, ” she said, half ashamed at her silly excuse.”