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Memoirs of a country doll. Written by herself cover

Memoirs of a country doll. Written by herself

Chapter 14: CHAPTER XI. QUARRELSOME MOTHERS.
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About This Book

A porcelain doll narrates her life after being purchased at a market and passed among several young caretakers. She describes domestic amusements, wardrobes and furnishings, spells of sickness, and small accidents that accompany country and town entertainments. Chapters recount outings such as May parties, gardening and blackberrying, seaside visits, winter play, theatrical performances and a pantomime, as well as correspondence and social visits. Through light humor and a childlike perspective the memoir traces shifting attachments, rivalries, and the everyday rituals that determine the doll's changing place in each household.

CHAPTER XI.
QUARRELSOME MOTHERS.

"Holloa! here's a doll, I'll have it," said the biggest girl, whose name was Martha Griggs.

"No you won't, either, so there you told a lie," said Madge Griggs.

"I'm the oldest, and ought to have it," screamed Martha.

"And I'm the youngest, and the oldest ought to give up to the smallest one," said Madge.

"You shan't, you shan't, you impudent jade, so you may just clear out of the way," yelled Martha, striking her sister with all her might.

"Oh! oh! oh! how you have hurt me! I shall tell mother of you as soon as we get home," said Madge.

"I don't care if you do, Miss," said Martha.

Then they went home, Martha with the doll, and Madge following behind her all the way. I thought that I was very unfortunate in the change of my mammas, for, thought I, I can't pass a very pleasant time with these quarrelsome mammas, and I'm afraid that I may have my legs or arms, or even my head broken in a fray, which I should not like very much. At last we came to the house where they lived, and then we had supper, and I was put to bed. I cried very much that night, for I was sad at leaving my little mother Agnes, and I felt bad at having such quarrelsome mothers as I now had. I never could get a moment's peace, for if one of my mothers wanted me put to bed, the other one wanted me to get up. I can remember one day what a quarrel occurred, and these were the words, as nearly as I can recollect. "Madge, where's my doll?" "It's not your doll." "That's a lie." "It aint, I'll have that doll." "You won't, I found it in the grass." "I'm the youngest and ought to have it. Father says you ought to give up to the youngest." "Will you tell me where that doll is, for I want to put its apron on?" "Ah, ha, you won't get it now, if you want to put its apron on, for I am going to put its worst dress on, so as to let it slabber in the dirt." "No you won't, either," and Martha gave Madge slap after slap, and slap after slap, till I thought that Madge would never see light again. That night when I went to bed, I thought how much better it would have been for Martha to have kindly asked Madge for me, and for Madge to have answered kindly; and I hope that all my readers will never imitate Madge and Martha.