A Virginia gentleman, Colonel William Fleming, kept for several years a close account of the money he spent for his little daughters, who were young misses of ten and eleven in the year 1787. The most expensive single items are bonnets, each at £;4 10s.; an umbrella, £;2 8s. Cloth cloaks and saddles and bridles for riding were costly items. Tamboured muslin was at that time 18s. a yard; durant, 3s. 6d.; lutestring, 12s.; calico, 6s. 3d. Scarlet cloaks for each girl cost £;2 14s. each. Other dress materials besides those named above were cambric, linen, cotton, osnaburgs, negro cotton, book-muslin, ermin, nankeen, persian, Turkey cotton, shalloon, and swanskin. There were many yards of taste and ribbon, black lace, and edgings, and gauze—gauze—gauze. A curious item several times appearing is a “paper bonnet,” not bonnet-paper, which latter was a constant purchase on women’s lists. There were pen-knives, “scanes of silk,” crooked combs, morocco shoes, “nitting pins,” constant “sticks of pomatum,” fans, “chanes,” a shawl, a tamboured coat, gloves, stockings, trunks, bands and clasps, tooth-brushes, silk gloves, necklaces, “fingered gloves,” silk stockings, handkerchiefs, china teacups and saucers and silver spoons. All these show a very generous outfit. In the year 1770 a delightful, engaging little child came to Boston from Nova Scotia to live for a time with her aunt, a Boston gentlewoman, and to attend Boston schools. For the amusement of her parents so far away, and for practice in penmanship, she kept during the years 1771 and part of 1772 a diary. She was but ten years old when she began, but her intelligence and originality make this diary a valuable record of domestic life in Boston at that date. I have had the pleasure of publishing her diary with notes under the title, _Diary of Anna Green Winslow, a Boston School Girl, in the Year 1771_. I lived so much with her while transcribing her words that she seems almost like a child of my own. Like other unusual children she died young—when but nineteen. She was not so gifted and wonderful and rare a creature as that star among children, Marjorie Fleming, yet she was in many ways equally interesting; she was a frank, homely little flower of New England life destined never to grow old or weary, or tired or sad, but to live forever in eternal, happy childhood, through the magic living words in the hundred pages of her time-stained diary. She was of what Dr. Holmes called Boston Brahmin blood, was related to many of the wealthiest and best families of Boston and vicinity, and knew the best society. Dress was to her a matter of distinct importance, and her clothes were carefully fashionable. Her distress over wearing “an old red Domino” was genuine. We have in her words many references to her garments, and we find her dress very handsome. This is what she wore at a child’s party:—