Page 196 - Always Virginia

184 Virginia Day Fritscher

to know nothin’. You were supposed to be dumb, but now they’re
not—which is better. My mother was fair, though. If I’d ask her,
she’d tell me, because she always said, “I’d rather you get the answers
from me than somebody else. You don’t know how they’d tell it
to you.” You know. And me being the only girl was kind of tough
with four brothers. But I got everything, I have to say. I had four
good brothers. Only Jim. Jim was kind of haughty. If he wanted
me to do something for him, like he’d come downstairs, and maybe
wouldn’t bring his cufflinks, and he’d say, “Go upstairs and get my
cufflinks, Sis,” and I’d say, “Who was your slave girl last year? I’m
not gonna do it.” He’d say, “Ma, make her go.” She’d say, “No. She
don’t have to wait on you.” Then he’d get mad and he’d say, “Just
wait until your birthday comes. You think you’ll get something
from me.” I’d say, “Well, keep it. You wouldn’t give me enough
to put in my eye anyway.” And I’d win the fight. We always did,
always argued. If we meet today, we’d still do the same thing. He
always thought he run the place, but he could never run me. My
mother would always say, “Take up for yourself.” [Laughs.]

Jack: Do you remember Isadora Duncan?

Mary Pearl: No, I don’t.

Jack: Did you have any pets when you were little?

Mary Pearl: Oh yes, my brothers had everything. We had
white rabbits, little squirrels.

Jack: I mean any special dog?

Mary Pearl: Oh yes. I had a big Saint Bernard that Aunt Nell
gave me. When it came—a little puppy like this, you know—and
he grew up to be so big and then he got ferocious. So we gave him
to some friends of my mother’s down in DeSoto, Missouri, by the
name of Long, because as soon as any stranger come in the yard he’d
leap for their throat, and a policeman told us we had to get rid of it.