One smart cat

(1980 memoirs)
Frankie told me years ago she had such a smart cat.  When half grown she taught it to play ball with her.  When I asked what happened to it, I think she would say no nore than it died.  And when I asked if she ever had another, "No."

Squirrels

(1980 memoirs)
Frankie could coax squirrels to eat peanuts out of her hand, and Lorin took a picture one time of a squirrel taking a peanut from my hand, tho no credit to me.

Owl's nest

Near the street on the side of her house was a tree with a hollow trunk, and one year Frankie had an owl's nest in it.  Oh the happiness!  She spent much time there going as close as she dared.  She kept counting them and trying to photograph them.

Monarch butterfly

(1980 memoirs)
Frankie may have made a failure of that dusty, fusty course but not of her life, for every creature was her friend, and she spent hours ferreting out its secrets.  She found a chrysalis of a Monarch Butterfly that had fallen and put the twig of milkweed it was on carefully under a large wire strainer to await results.  When it showed signs of life, she had her camera ready and took many pictures of the various stages.  I have seen the same series since in many nature magazines but none better than hers, in my view.

A failure

(1980 memoirs)
[Frankie took the Classical course at Ripon.]  "I made a failure of it," she would tell me, feeling remorse and pain.  "If only I could have been put in the other course!  I always wanted to learn about animals and living things and about the world!"  --  "But, Cousin Frankie, why didn't you change?  You didn't have to take the Classical."  --  "I didn't think I could change the way they do now.  I took what they said and made a failure of it."

The Classical course

(1980 memoirs)
Cousin Frankie went to the college [Ripon] herself when she was young and often told me what a disaster the whole thing was.  At that time there were two courses only, the Classical course and the Science.  Somehow, some way, God knows how, somebody pushed her into the Classical course where she had no roots, no feeling.  Greek and Latin grammar beat about in her poor brain where it had no place to be.

Spencer Carrier

And yet some how, some way, out of the the past Spencer Carrier came to see her one day.  I didn't know what to expect and came wonderingly down the stairs from my room.  He was such a nice man!  Just a little Mortimer-Sneerd-y - that deep guffaw:  alugh!  It sort of went out all over and all over us.  He was a small person and wore a dark grey suit - straight tan hair - guess maybe a mustache.  As I recall he didn't stay to dinner, only the afternoon.  Cousin Frankie was pleased, but not altogether at ease.  Unexpected company frequently makes us feel that way.  I was always glad I saw him, tho, and knew how nice he was.