Hadn't they been touching their caps to me all my life"
"I'm not sure that my parents paid much attention to how the townspeople treated me. They certainly didn't know of my uppity ways. Not until the day when my father caught me in the act and taught me a lesson.
"My father also sold groceries--'the goods,' we called them. There was always a small crowed in the shop--women in shawls, men in muddy boots and stiff tweed caps, children with bare feet waiting to buy a pound of sugar or a packet of Lyons tea or maybe a dozen fresh herrings for Friday's dinner. But when my mother sent me to fetch 'the goods,' I never had to wait. The shop boy would spot me coming in, and greet me, 'Yes, Miss Bolton"' And I'd step straight away to the front, and give my order. I took it entirely for granted. Hadn't they been taking me first since before I was big enough to see over the counter? They had. Until that day.
"It was a soft day, I remember, and bright with rare, golden sunlight. I was planning to go on a bus 'up the mountain' with two friends.
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