Source:
Life of Octavia Hill as told in her letters (1913), compiled and edited by Charles Edmund Maurice
The letter:
November, 1845.
On Monday it is Ockey's birthday. She will be seven years old. She intends to give me a patchwork bag on that day — and she sits on a play box placed on a window-board, and looks so pretty, sewing earnestly away, never thinking that I am watching her. Every now and then she looks out at the passers by: they know every boy and girl, cat, dog, and donkey in the village by sight, and a good many of them by name, and for those whose name they do not know they invent one.
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