I was fifteen when I wrote this. Girls were all expected to knit and mend their own clothes back then. Graham was my older brother.
Well, I think it's very unjust. Mother only said this morning that she wanted me to do my mending before I started knitting Graham's pullover. Then she goes and tells Dad that she's told me countless times to do my mending! How on earth was I to divine that she wanted to done so soon? Crumbs, I think it's the giddy limit and I get a ticking off from Dad all because - oh well, it's too involved to explain. I got my long overdue library books back at last, and had to dole out half my pocket money for the fine. Anyway, I read a whole P.G. Woodhouse today and have started a big book by M. Irwin.