By Emma Saunders
The sweet, plump, strawberries exploded in my mouth. Some of the juice leaked onto my chin. I was having a picnic with my fairest friend Elizabeth. She laughed blissfully. “Ilts lnot blunny (It’s not funny)!” I mumbled, with my mouth full. Just then, a strange noise interrupted our conversation. I woke from my dream, startled. What could it be? Phew! It was only the cockerel crowing, which means get up and get ready!
I put on my petticoat, stockings, garters, a 2nd petticoat, a 3rd petticoat, waistcoat, coif, apron, pocket, and shoes. Then, I had to be about my chores. I needed to milk the goats. I marched to the goat pin. “Oh, Mary!” I exclaimed. “The goats have escaped! How could they have got out?” I thought.
I had to hurry to fetch them. I looked by rocks, bushes, thick shrubbery, and then I looked in a near-by field. There, nibbling grass, were the goats. I brought them home, and started milking them. I got kicked while milking Mamma Goat. “Ouch!” I yelped, gripping my forearm. I had a mark to show Mam and Pa.
I finished milking just in time to hear Mam call, “Hannah, breakfast!” I hurried to breakfast so I could serve it. Pa said the blessing. I served Mam and Pa first, then myself. After a hard morning’s chores, the oatmeal and bread sure tasted excellent.
2 comments:
Emma, I could almost taste those strawberries! Your writing is so descriptive that I felt I was there, in your story. I especially liked the ending sentence...about the oatmeal. Your little goat is so cute, must be a girl goat.
What period of history is this supposed to represent? Are you a Pilgrim girl? Loved it!
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