Speak truly

What a drab day! Sleet is the most miserable stuff.

Here’s something I found amongst my great aunt’s books. It is a soft leather bound, 16cm x 20cm, book, called a Writing Album. The pages have a gold edge to them. The inscription says it was given to her on her twelfth birthday, January 6th 1902, by her two sisters, who were quite a bit older than she was.
 
She obviously gave it to her friends and family for them to contribute something – poems, drawings, etc. All dated between 1902 and 1909, there are some lovely little sketches and paintings, some poems, some comical verses and some quite serious thoughts put into writing, and all in beautiful handwriting. I have traced a few of the contributions to members of her family, but most I assume were friends of hers. I do think about these young people sometimes and wonder what became of them.