Life with the Lancasters

Well, living with the Lancasters turned out to be all right. They were already old when I moved in with them. But, like Comfort had predicted, they grabbed onto me like a hen with one chick, and did some spoiling I allowed.

Mrs. Lancaster~she wanted me to call her Ma~ and so I did. It made her happy and I couldn't remember my own, so it seemed like a good deal for both of us. Pa Lancaster wasn't so easy to get used to.

I started my list of WANT-NOTS the first day under the Lancaster roof.
Things that I want not in a man:
1. Must not chew tobacco. (Mr. Lancaster spit frequently, and due to weak projection usually dribbled brown goo on his chin. I stared at it a lot.


Ma Lancaster couldn't read, but she looked at the pictures reverently in my Godey's Lady's Book and would sit of an evening as I read to her from it.

"A lady is to move slowly and gracefully and never swing her arms when she walks."

I created a monster. Mrs. Lancaster took my comfortable pants from me and sewed up some dresses instead. She was determined to mold me into a Godey's Lady.