Snippets of February

It’s Snippets of Story time! Here are a few of my favorite passages of what I wrote in January. They’re all from The Wise- and Light-Hearted … click on the title for the synopsis!

Felicia Dawson, fifteen years old, was a delightful girl by Lucy’s standards. She was small and fairy-like; her hair was the color of gold. She laughed as much as she talked and was always in good humor. She loved poetry, novels, and music, and though not expertly accomplished, warmly admired the skills of other young ladies, including Lucy. She was a great friend to her younger siblings.
I really enjoy this new character.

As at the very genesis of the holiday plan, Aunt Abigail was as pleased and excited by the new-fangled fashion of her clothes as with anything else about their trip. She had chosen white French cambric for her dress and embellished it with lace and flounces wherever tasteful; it ended at her ankles, for she was determined to experiment with a shorter hem. She wore shoes now, but her maid carried a basket that held delightfully soft sandals for her and Lucy as well as their bathing costumes.
At Lyme-Regis.

Sophia, always one to defer pleasure, allowed Lucy to go before her, so as soon as Rachel was helped into the bathing machine, into the sea plunged Lucy.
She felt as if she were floating in a cold, wet blast of wind before the dipper’s strong arms took hold of her. The sea sent its waves rushing against her with vigor; it threw one at the back of her head and water streamed into her face. It was like an uncontained, fathomless bath; it was freedom, a delightful terror. The salt stung her eyes and her lips.
“It’s a bit rough today, m’dear,” the dipper said. “Are you ready?”
“Quite, ma’am!” Lucy clapped her hand over her nose and mouth.
Under she went. Cold! Under again. Like a hood of ice. Under a third time. Oh, the glorious wetness, the infinite water that enveloped her.
At Lyme-Regis. This is more or less how proper Georgian and Regency era folks experienced the ocean, with a bathing machine – an enclosed wagon to take them into the water – and a dipper – a person who held onto them and dipped them under the water.

 

wikimedia commons. Bathing machines were used in the Victorian era, too.

Sophia and Philip had a wonderful time. The guide was humorous and respectful; they were practically alone in nature more wild than they were accustomed to; the sea was ever rushing, the wind ever blowing, the birds ever calling, the thrill of discovery ever titillating. Philip found a large, splendid ammonite, which the guide said people might call a snake-stone; it looked like a ridged ram’s horn curled around and around into a tight circle.
Sophia and Philip Edwards searching for fossils at Lyme-Regis.

“Mr. Chapman, you shall not stay here with me and miss out on the dancing, will you?” Lucy asked. “I can’t have that.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“As much as I should adore your company, I can’t have you missing any of this fun. You know it isn’t polite to dance with only your own acquaintance when you have been introduced to more. Look at those three young ladies looking so glum, there in the corner. Go get Arthur and Philip and rescue them. I know the heart of a young lady, and it’s the worst thing in the world to not get asked to dance.”
“I hope they don’t think anything of it.”
“I have met them, and they aren’t silly in the least.”
“All right, I shall go.”
“You are a hero, Mr. Chapman.”
At – you guessed it – a Lyme-Regis public ball. Mr. Chapman is Sophia’s cousin Joseph.