“The young lady’s name attracts attention...”

The “Ima” stories refused to go away. Imagine how Ima must have felt as she grew older.

         Gov. Hogg of Texas, who is visiting New York, is a man with a large sense of humor. He has two daughters, one of whom he named Ima Hogg and the other Ura Hogg. He wanted to name his son Bea Hogg, but his wife put a stop to that.

--The Penny Press [Minneapolis], July 7, 1894.

         Gov. Hogg, of Texas, who is making a tour of the Eastern States, is accompanied by his daughter. The young lady’s name attracts attention wherever she is introduced. It is certainly a queer combination and those who hear it for the first time usually refuse to believe that it is her real name.

         It is true, however, that Ima Hogg is the only name the lady has ever had. Her mother found the name Ima in a novel that she was reading when Miss Ima Hogg was a baby. She admired the name and so did her husband and it was given in baptism to the infant before the parents realized that the Christian and surname made a rather queer combination.

         “She is satisfied with it now,” says her father, dryly, “but she may possibly change it some day.”

--The Penny Press [Minneapolis], September 15, 1894.

        

         When the editor of a Chicago paper [The Chicago Record] wrote to Hogg asking about his children’s names, Ima’s father replied on November 12, 1896:

         “I beg to advise you that the names of my children are William, Ima, Mike and Tom—three boys and one girl—whose ages are, respectively, 21, 14, 11, and 9 years. . . . The names of Ura, Hesa, Shesa, Harry, and Moore Hogg are the mythical creatures of campaigners who failed to beat me for office.”

         Ex-Governor Hogg of Texas takes the trouble to write to a Chicago paper that he has no children named Ura, Hesa, and Sheesa, but admits that he has a daughter named Ima. This seems to give his whole case away, says the Atlanta Constitution.

-- Fayetteville [North Carolina] Observer, December 5, 1896.

But a legend had been born, and it refused to die.         

What's in a name?

It is clear that Jim Hogg adored his only daughter. She and the rest of his family spent Christmas 1905 with him at Varner Plantation. That would be his last Christmas. It was not the last, however, of the gift he gave Ima: her name. She would live with it until her death in 1975.

         Why he named her Ima, even after all these years, is still not clear.

         Name stories abound. When J. S. Hogg was elected governor of Texas in 1890, newspapers all over the United States carried items about his children’s names. As we would say today, the name stories “went viral.” Here are some samples:

Texas ought to be proud of its governor, Hogg, whose two girls and boy have been named by himself, “Ima Hogg, Ura Hogg and Moore Hogg.”

--The Atchison [Kansas] Champion, April 24, 1891.

Governor Hogg of Texas named one of his daughters Ima Hogg. Her reproach to her father must be, “you’re another.”

--Daily Evening Bulletin [San Francisco] May 2, 1891.

Governor Hogg, of Texas, has three bright children, two girls and a boy, whose names respectively are said to be Ima Hogg, Ura Hogg and Moore Hogg. These names were bestowed by Governor Hogg himself.

--The Atchison [Kansas] Daily Globe, May 19, 1891.

And these were just the beginning.

         

"We have killed hogs twice…."

Jim Hogg was never happier than when he was at Varner Plantation. In December 1905 he could hardly wait to celebrate Christmas there with his family. In anticipation, he wrote again to Ima:

For more than a week the weather has been frosty, clear and bracing. A stiff, fresh Norther is now blowing. We have killed hogs twice and I have never seen weather better for saving meat. So “you see” I am fixed just  suited. Each day I take plenty of exercise, either walking, talking or horse-back riding. I have “made friends” with Albarac, and go riding nearly every day. He is about as fine as ever. Sometimes I ride Dick, the large, black trap-horse, and he is an excellent saddler; but is too tall—so high that I must mount him from a log or stump, while I can mount Albarac like an eighteen-year-old from the ground. This makes me feel more like a horseman. We are locating the birds, squirrels, ducks and bear for the boys. They shall take you with them hunting and have a gay time. Since arriving here I have steadily improved, until now I begin to feel buoyant and hopeful that my full restoration to my former good health will come some of these days.

I guess, as I hope, you are having a very pleasant time. The attention and kindness shown you everywhere and especially in Austin where you are so well known, shed floods of light-of-pleasure into my heart. And you deserve it all. With your acquaintance and large circle of friends in Texas, won by your own exemplary character and excellent behavior, you have nothing to dread in the future; provided that you do not change radically in your disposition and habits.

With you or away from you I have every reason to be grateful to God for such a girl. One thing I do hope and that is you may go to church a little oftener.

Affectionately,

Your father,

J. S. Hogg

---

How about a turpentine massage before breakfast?

In December 1905 Jim Hogg, convalescing at Varner Plantation, was feeling better and looking forward to Christmas. He wrote to Ima:

My dear Ima,

I am continuing to improve under the skillful treatment of your Brother Will and our servant Richard Davis. The former gives me the medicine and “squirts” my throat, and the latter gives me alternate alcohol and turpentine massage scrubbing and baths before breakfast. Riding, walking and eating constitute my past-time and recreation. We have killed a lot of fat hogs, and you know I have never been willing to stand by and see the spare-ribs, back-bones, sausages, chitlings and sauce, spoil. Will looks as rosy red and saucy as a beer-soaked Dutchman! He is in his element here doctoring the “Old Man” and riding out among the stock—and writing “back-spelled” postal cards and cheap-material letters. Next in order of importance is your maid, Mary, who is willing as ever. Birdie is the same good cook and is taking good care of the smoke-house, and the chickens and turkeys. Mr. and Mrs. Owens are very nice and agreeable. They occupy the upstairs over the dining room and kitchen. Napoleon is as fine and beautiful as ever. He seemed disappointed when he found you did not come with me. The trap-horses and saddle horses are in excellent condition. The dogs are all in good condition and are ready for the “boys” next Christmas. . . .

We have plenty of hogs, sheep and beef, turkeys, geese and chickens, and milk and butter, and sweet and Irish potatoes, and turnips, radishes, etc., to do during the holidays and all the “boys” must have a big time when you come.

I am proud of the record I heard Mike is making and I hope you may help Tom on to the same point.

With love to everybody,

Affectionately your Pa,

J. S. Hogg

"Don't be afraid, boy."

11/30

Meanwhile, Mike Hogg did well enough on his exams to be admitted to the University of Texas in the fall of 1905. His brother Will, working in his new job in St. Louis, could not resist a long letter of advice to Mike about university life:

Doubtless you will be solicited to join a fraternity. I want you to join some college fraternity; you will find one a source of agreeable companionship through college and in it you will establish friendships which will endure always. But have a care; know the crowd, all of them, before you join. . . .  

While in college and ever afterwards, I hope you will be able to wear good-neat, well-made clothes; keep your shoes polished; clean linen on; hair regularly cut and eider-down off your face . . . one should dress as well as circumstances will allow, always barring foppishness, of course. . . .

I want you to know above every thing that I am your friend, first, last and all the time . . . and your brother afterwards; that no trial or tribulation which may overcome you, I would not share heartily and lovingly. Let no fear of what I might think or assume concerning your predicament deter you from being always frank, open and confiding towards me . . . doubtless you will do some slip-shod thing which will tend to compromise you in your own estimation . . . let me know your little college trouble . . . that I may serve you as your closest friend. Come to me, my boy, not for censure but for loving assistance. . . .        

Don’t be afraid, boy: have more moral courage than brute bravery. . . . Be fearless in your thoughts, actions and speech that they may be pure. . . . if you are not brave in college and out of it you will not be worth a damn there or afterwards.

Keep out of debt at college and try to do so in after life . . . don’t spend any money you have not in hand. . . .

Confident that you will make a man good and proper first of all and hoping that you will be a scholar afterwards I am, with constant love, Yours, Will.

Years later Mike dubbed his brother Will “Mr. Podsnaps” after a stuffy, self-righteous character in Charles Dickens’s 1865 novel, Our Mutual Friend.

---

A Mysterious Romance, Part 2

When Ima went to Colorado in August 1905, so did Willis Reeve. He wrote a note to her on Cliff House stationery (undated, as was his habit), when she was late for a dinner date:          

You know I thought we were to go to dinner at six & get an early start--You certainly had better hurry or else you’ll incur my terrible wrath--

         WR

6:45

         Ima saved this note, along with his others. Presumably she went to dinner. She had a good time in Manitou--until Mr. Reeve left. She wrote to her brother Mike:

All my fun is over. Have been having a dandy gay time for the last ten days, but—boo hoo—everybody I know left yesterday and before. Had been to a dance every night for ages. . . .

Mr. Reeve was up a few days but went away some where with his sisters.

When Willis Reeve returned to Houston, his and Ima’s mutual friend, W. G. Harris, wrote to Ima, referring to a teasing letter he and Reeve had written to her earlier, saying that they had been “both so overcome & grief stricken over your absence we knew not what we did and are really not responsible for what we said.” (Alas, that letter has not been located.)

         In the fall of 1905 Ima saw more of “Renn,” which seems to have been a nickname for Willis Reeve. Among the Ima Hogg papers are several dance programs: the Annual Dance of the University German Club” on November 30, 1905, at the Driskill Hotel, a dance at Protection Hall December 7, and a cotillion program December 22 at Concordia Hall. The last two events were evidently debutante balls. Ima’s Concordia Hall dance card shows that she danced the first dance with “Renn.” She also danced twice more with him, and three with W.G. Harris.

         What became of Willis B. Reeve?

          

A Mysterious Romance, Summer 1905

         I found the "Sweetheart" letter and its envelope, which had been carefully saved, in a file folder of Ima Hogg’s correspondence in Austin. Then I found another note, also undated, and also on Rice Hotel stationery, signed “WBR.” Further searches revealed that these initials belonged to one Willis B. Reeve. 

         The handwriting in this note, which must have been written earlier, resembles that in the love letter. Reeve was evidently a guest at the Rice Hotel, where Ima and her father were staying. His note begins:

         I really did not get my key at once, but took a little walk--just to think on the day just past and get right for tomorrow. . . .

         I am glad you enjoyed the show. I certainly was glad and proud to have you go. . . .

         Have a good time and “so long.”

                  Reservoir, [slang for “au revoir”]

                                    Cordially

                                                      WBR

P.S. I am really afraid I’ll not get upstairs for a while--a good-looking show girl is writing at the clerk’s desk beside me now!

         WBR liked to tease. And as in the love letter, he liked to add P.S.’s.

         But who was he? Why was he staying at the Rice Hotel? Diligent searches of census records, city directories, and newspaper data bases have turned up nothing. He visited Ima at Varner Plantation later that summer, and turned up in Colorado when Ima and her father went there in August 1905.

But there are no more notes and letters in the files. Willis B. Reeve remains a mystery beau.

“I think only that I love you.” Ima's secret romance, 1905

In 1905, while staying with her convalescing father at the Rice Hotel, Ima, age 22, had a serious romance. An undated letter written on Rice Hotel stationery and addressed to her at the hotel begins, “Sweetheart.” It was an answer to a note Ima had written to the sender. We don't have her note, but she saved the reply:

Sweetheart—

         It was not just the muchness of your note but the wasness of it that brought that inexpressible joy to my heart. Most heartily do I agree with you, sweetheart, that Fate could not be so unkind as to keep long separated two such loving and trusting hearts. Were I to think for a moment that we were not to be one for ever, that moment would I cease to be. But think not on thoughts so unpleasant for it is by thinking right that you get right, so get right on thought and it will be as you think it. I think only that I love you and that you are mine and that no power on earth can separate us, and none can. I love you by day. I love you by night. No winter chill our love can blight. For the moment dear, I go away—but I leave my love with you to stay. So with love, love, love, and kisses too.

I leave the moment my love with you.

                  Your Sweetheart.        

P.S.

When I first started to write to you.

I am sure my love, this note was blue

P.P.S.

Here’s a last kiss and another still.

Here’s one for Jack and one for Jill.

Of course they are all meant for you.

Jack and Jill I thought would do.

That I might give your kisses the rue

Ere I left—don’t you mind

But if my dear you are really mad

I’ll take them back to make you glad

So there! and there !! and there!!!

The cheeks, the mouth the hair.

So now I’m off but not to stay.

I’ll soon be back—so dear be gay.

[illegible] of love Sweetheart

Who was this mysterious suitor?  

Was his name Willis B. Reeve? Stay tuned.

THE HOGGS OF TEXAS--Out at last!

 In 2008 (the year of Hurricane Ike) I began working on an edition of the Hogg family letters. It grew, and grew, with nearly 400 letters from collections in Austin and Houston, and Ima’s memoirs of country life in East Texas, student days at the University of Texas, and New York at the turn of the century. 

For this blog, a blurb from the book’s back cover:

“During the 1890s, Governor James Stephen Hogg headed what could be called the “first famiy of Texas”--himself, his wife Sallie, their sons Will, Tom, and Mike, and their daughter, Ima. (No, contrary to numerous stories there were no children names ‘Ura’ or ‘Sheza’ or anything of that sort.) Virginia Bernhard has skillfully edited family letters and memoirs to let the Hoggs tell their own story from 1887 until the death of Jim Hogg in 1906. Readers will find themselves being drawn into and through these years with the Hoggs, experiencing the hopes, joys, successes, and sorrows of a special Texas family. It is a fine read.

         --Randolph B. Campbell, Lone Star Professor of Texas History, University of North Texas, and Chief Historian, Texas State Historical Association

“The kind of reader you must not become . . . is the butterfly-reader, the humming-bird reader."

Ima’s brother Will (always the one to give advice) wrote to her about a list of books he had recommended for her. Too bad we don’t have her comments about Will’s list.

Probably you are correct about the biographical series—American and English men of letters. They are critical biographies, one volume to the man—so strike ’em out. Now Missey, I raise my voice in alarm—leave the American Statesmen series of biographies in the list. The clearest and most interesting road to a general knowledge of America’s Kingdom’s history goes along the lives of the men in those books. The boys will find helpful, man-making reading there.—So please leave them in. Why, James Stefinn will enjoy them.

Let me plead in your own behalf for another book in the list—Stevenson’s Letters. There’s not a more fascinating, absorbing name in latter-day letters than R.L.S. Now those letters will please and instruct you.... His works, put on the shelves of that library! Now Boswell’s Life of Johnson—is not long and will tell you of a man. Do as you like here—though, leaving the book in the list now will, when you come to read it, furnish ample cause for congratulation.

Before I close, let me admonish you to guard yourself from a habit of—reading that weakens, that does not instruct, that only serves to amuse in a time-killing way—a method of reading worse than no reading at all, almost. The kind of reader you must not become and which you will probably become is the butterfly-reader, the humming-bird-reader; the reader who tastes of everything within a binding and digests nothing; a flirt and coquette with good taste and thoroughness. I say you will probably become such because the larger number of readers I have seen are just such readers—I know you will become such unless you start now in the direction of thoroughness. . . .

Yours,

Will.

Among the Ima Hogg papers is a small composition book .  In it are her notes on Hugo’s Les Miserables, Dumas’s The Count of Monte Cristo, and J. M. Barrie’s 1896 novel, Sentimental Tommy.

---

Nurse Ima

As 1905 began, Ima went back to Austin with a convalescent Tom, for a stay in a boarding house. But she did not lack for amusement. She wrote to her father, A good deal of entertaining is going on for Austin—so I shall be going some. Last night went to a dance, this afternoon to receive at a reception and tonight. Next week there will be a good many more receptions besides the Girls’ Annual Hop. I wish we had Napoleon.

How are you getting along? Am sorry it is so we can’t be together—Tom sends best love to you and to brothers when you see him—as I do with XXXXXXX kisses.

Ever lovingly,

Ima

Ima had a fine January in Austin, but on January 26 a fateful accident took place. Jim Hogg, en route by train from Varner to Houston, was involved a collision. The passenger car in which he was riding rammed into another car, and Hogg was thrown violently to the floor. At first the injuries seemed to be only bruises, and Ima continued her socializing in Austin. She gave a “German” (a ball) on February 3, honoring her visiting San Antonio friends.

But Ima’s social whirl was halted and the family’s life took an unexpected turn two days after Ima's party. She received a telegram that her father was seriously ill in Houston. An abscess had formed at the back of his neck, and he was about to have surgery. “Of course I rushed to him,” Ima wrote later.

Several surgeries weakened Jim Hogg’s already strained heart, and he was critically ill and bedridden for two months in the spring of 1905.

Ima became his devoted nurse.

"Father took charge."

In September 1904, Ima, ever the good big sister, settled Mike and Tom once again at the Lawrenceville school in New Jersey. Perhaps because of her father’s finances (oil prices were down), Ima, ever the good daughter, did not resume her music studies in New York, but returned to Texas.

After a summer dutifully supervising Tom and Mike in Massachusetts, she was now happily socializing in Houston,  Austin, and San Antonio. In Houston on November 23, Thanksgiving Eve, she attended the traditional festive ball honoring "King Nottoc" [King Cotton] and his queen. In early December she visited her friend Nellie Paschal in San Antonio and returned to Houston on December 15. The San Antonio Light reported that Ima was planning a "house party at 'Columbia,' commencing on the 22nd."

But the Christmas house party at Varner did not take place.

By December, Mike and Tom were eager to come to Texas for Christmas. They had not spent Christmas at home since 1902. Tom wrote a gloomy letter to Ima:

My dear Sister:—

Yours was received yesterday.

It is very cold up here and there is some snow on the ground.

For about three or four weeks, I have had a very bad cold and still have it as bad as ever.

This fooling doctor up here could not cure a bruised finger. . . .

As you would naturly expect, I want to come home Xmas.

As the December days passed, Tom’s “very bad cold” turned into pneumonia, and Ima and her father rushed to Tom’s bedside. There, as Ima wrote later, “Father took charge with the nurse to follow orders. This treatment was the same as he used when mother had pneumonia each winter. . . . Hot poultices were constantly applied to chest back and sides. All parts were greased with lard & to prevent burning, poultices were made of cornmeal saturated with kerosene and turpentine put in soft cotton bags. He sat up all night doing the work, giving orders to the assistant nurse.”

That was how Christmas 1904 came and went.

"My pedestal lady...."

Ima had a longer-lasting romantic relationship was with a young Austin attorney named Wilbur P. Allen. The two had known each other since their days at the University of Texas, when they had long talks in the moonlight, sitting on the steps of St. Mary’s Seminary (they were UT students, but St. Mary’s had nice steps). By 1904 Wilbur Allen had a law office at 806 Congress Avenue, in the same building as Hogg, Robertson & Hogg, the law firm of Ima’s father and brother.

Allen had been wooing Ima since 1902. He had wanted to take her to the University of Texas Commencement Ball in 1903. He had visited her in New York and complained that she gave him “about ten minutes of interrupted talk for my two thousand miles.” Ima apparently kept him at a distance, and he called her “my dear, incorrigible, impossible friend.” He called her “my pedestal lady,” and wrote, “I want to see you Miss Ima—I’ve got to see you—. I want to know if I may come to see you then wherever you are.”

         What was Ima’s answer? We don’t know. But these two kept in touch.

"She will do this herself."

J. S. Hogg tried to keep in touch with his younger sons. He sent a short letter to Tom: Write to me the news if you have time. Tell about the country, the people, the pleasures you have, the lessons you take, the reading you do, and how Ima and Mike pass the time. Give me an old-time gossipy letter. And tell me (in confidence if you please) if you have a sweetheart now and how you are getting along with her. And how about Mike’s? Is he in love with the widow yet? And do not tell about Ima’s. She will do this herself.         

        

         As for Ima’s romantic attachments in the summer of 1904 (and how much she told her father about them), there were at least two young men who wrote ardent letters to her: Harry Taylor, whom she had probably met at the Holyoke house party mentioned earlier, wrote to her after the party, but evidently she did not write to him. He ended a letter with, the lady doesn’t seem to overmuch care

         to write to her

Sincere friend, Harry K. Taylor

         At the end of the summer he wrote again: If you go back to Austin & I never see you again . . . it will be horrid. Do you care?

Apparently she did not.

Poor Will!

Ima did not write much to Will that summer. In late June he wrote to his father that he had had “one postal card from sister and not a line from the boys.” Poor Will: while Ima and his brothers amused themselves at a New England resort and his father played at being a farmer at Varner, Will was in Austin, living in a rented room above the First National Bank and laboring dutifully at the law firm of Hogg, Robertson & Hogg, two blocks away.

         He worried about his father's health in the summer heat at Varner: "Aside from drinking the artesian water, if you will not let the mosquitoes bite you, and if you will not eat quite so much as customary, I am sure you are as safe there as anywhere. But you must watch out for the mosquitoes; there is but one opinion concerning them as vehicles of malarial infection."

         Will tried to look after his sister, too. He wrote to his father, “I expect sister wants a little more of a stir socially, so I wrote her to inquire for rates where Miss Day [her New York friend] is going and if the charge is not above her limit for board and lodging, she might take the boys up there later in the season. You received the only letter I have had from her. She had a nice time at the Holyoke house party . . . . Writing her yesterday I enclosed some question blanks for her and the boys to fill out for your and my information and I asked her to send some kodak views of the boys so that I might take them with me to you.”

         

(Alas, the questions and the answers, along with the “kodak views” have not been discovered.)

---

"A red hot iron . . . ."

A few days after Ima arrived in South Egremont, her knee pained her so much that, without telling her father, she traveled to New York for treatment. Independent as always, she went alone. Tom wrote to their father that “Mike asked her to let him go with her and she said no.” 

         Ima finally wrote to her father from New York on July 5 about her recurrence of knee trouble. “I have used myself too hard of late,” she said matter-of-factly, making light of what must have been a painful episode. She was undergoing treatments by a Dr. Gibney, which consisted of applying a “red hot iron—on my knee and spinal column . . . . I may have a light brace.” She was staying with her New York friend, Lydia Day, at 18 East 40th Street. The doctor ordered Ima to walk as much as she could.

On July 9, the day before her twenty-second birthday, Ima wrote ruefully to her father that she had spent her last birthday “in bed” on account of her knee and a year later was “having the same old knee treated.” But she consoled herself by asking for a birthday present: on one of her walks she had seen a “magnificent necklace” of gold and opals for eighty dollars in an antique shop. Her father promptly sent her a check for eighty dollars (that would be over $2000.00 today).

On July 10, her birthday, she sent him a telegram: “All right walked two miles yesterday love to all.”

    

     Presumably she bought the necklace.

---

"My knee hurt me--"

Ima arrived in South Egremont on June 24, 1904, and reported to her father:

Dearest Papa:

Only one letter from you, and none from brother. We are almost penniless, too. Mike and Tom have been here nearly two weeks, so their board ought to be paid right off.

South Egremont is beautiful—but since the truth must be told—unexpectedly inconvenient. For instance my knee hurt me—there was but one way of getting to Barrington to find out about X-ray—except in a stable buggy. We are four miles you see. Mike and Tom are very much pleased, notably Thomas, who has an automobile friend, and all the luxuries of life. I am writing you all this in case you may see what I am driving at: Napoleon. What do you think of sending him up?—providing the expense isn’t too great. He can be put in the stable on the place. Tom says he & Mike will take care of him. . . .

The kids and all of us send love with many kisses which I hope may blow you a gentle cooling breeze for I know you must be melting—Why not come up? Oh! Please do! And write soon to

Your loving daughter

Ima

        

But J. S. Hogg did not “come up,” and neither did Napoleon.

---

"It is something like Colorado."

Mike and Tom arrived at South Egremont before their sister, and Mike wrote a dutiful description of it to his father:

                                            

June 20 1904

Dear Father:

Tom and I arrived here last Thursday morning. This is certainly a great place. We have been bothered more from cold than heat. It is something like Colorado. We are way up in the hills. I played some golf yesterday and walked around the hills a bit. There is a brook about fifty yards behind the house full of fine trout and perch.

The last time I weighed I weighed one hundred and forty six pounds. Tom weighed 170 and Sister 135. We are both a great deal taller than she.

Miss Houston [one of Ima’s New York friends] came yesterday and we expect Sister tomorrow or next day.

I will close hoping you and brother are both well and not suffering from the heat.

Your Son

Mike

         New England was a sight better than Texas in the summertime. 

“Most girls would have preferred some fashionable watering place. . . .”

Ima, Mike, and Tom spent the summer of 1904 in South Egremont, a small town in western Massachusetts. They stayed at the Larkhurst, a resort hotel in the rolling hills of Berkshire County. Their father was planning to summer at Varner, and Will labored away in the heat of Austin.

Jim Hogg’s boys might disappoint him, but his daughter could do no wrong: At the beginning of the summer he wrote her a letter of paternal praise:

“Your splendid character, your sweet disposition, your charming manners, your fidelity to your younger brothers added to your thoughtfulness of me at all times on all appropriate occasions have so impressed me that it is but natural for me to make you second to no human being. . . . Most girls would have preferred some fashionable watering place where they could smile on other girls’ brothers, to a quiet, substantial summer home surrounded by refinement, where they are compelled to submit to the frowns (now and then) of their own young brothers.”

         But she had a good time that summer, as we shall see.