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Andrew Stevens, September 1911
Mr. K emits an exaggerated sigh. “What a welcome relief to be in the quiet confines of the brewery walls. Colonel, I don’t know about Sophie, but Emma’s criticism is relentless against permitting politics to interrupt this summer’s travel plans. She continues to remind me of her wisdom in advising us to join them on the eastern side of the Atlantic instead of bringing them back to sweat it out here in September. ‘Hot, hot, hot,’ she repeats aloud. As though I were incapable of coming to that conclusion on my own.”
The Colonel takes out his handkerchief to mop his forehead. “This August was the hottest one since the Weather Bureau started recording temperatures in 1885.”
“‘Thirteen days of temperatures over 100 degrees,’ Emma complains, before adding that I made sure she didn’t miss a one.”
John raises his handkerchief to his face as well. “’Tis a woman who reigns over Hades, they say.”
Continue reading “An Ostrich-Plumed Hat: Chapter Eleven”