Willow House

I'm reading a book by one of my favorite southern writers, Lee Smith. The title of the book is On Agate Hill and it's set in North Carolina right after the Civil War.

When I'm reading a book and I find a section of the book that I particularly relate to or enjoy, I like to write it down in my journal so I can remember it. In this particular exerpt, some children are playing on the grounds around the plantation in an area they have come to name Willow House.

"It is cool and green in the Willow House. Long lacy branches fall down around us making a screen for perfect privacy, so none can see where we sit on our three white rocks to read or eat a fancy lunch on magnolia leaf plates.... While we are in the Willow House, time stops still it seems, and all we can hear is the music of the river in our ears.

And the most exciting part -- though we have not seen them yet -- Mary White and I have reason to believe that a band of fairies comes here also. Mary White knows all the fairies and now I do too. They wear little green jackets and red caps with an owl feather sticking up at a jaunty angle. They come to ride the frogs and hunt the skittery waterbugs that play back there in the shallows. They live on fried waterbugs and flower pudding, Mary White says. One day we surprised these fairies and almost saw them -- but they flew away fast on their gossamer wings leaving only a rainbow shimmer in the air and an owl feather floating in the little pool by the littlest rock where it went round and round in a magic way for as long as we watched, until Mary White plucked it up from the water to put in our collection of phenomena. Mary White says the fairies are coming back soon, she can feel it. She says we must go to the river in the light of the moon if we really mean to see them. So we are planning to do this on the next full moon. I can not wait.

Another thing we play is dolls, though my china doll Margaret is very old, having belonged first to Julia and Rachel when they were girls. Her painted hair was all gone on one side but now Mary White and I have made her some more with bootblack, so she looks fine, and her blue silk ballgown is especially elegent. Underneath she wears a chemise, a petticoat, and pantalettes, feather-stitched and herringboned, made by Julia. Mary White can not get over Margarets pantalettes!

And in truth I like Margaret old as she is far better than Mary Whites wax doll Fleur which is much larger, able to open and shut her eyes and say Mama and Papa quite plainly. But Fleur is too much of a baby doll for me. I like a doll who is old enough for romances and flirtations."

Taken from On Agate Hill by Lee Smith