Not to long ago, I found a book at a flea
market. It is called DOLLS, An anthology, and of course the
word "dolls" always gets my attention. It's a
collection of poems about dolls put together by Julia A. Robinson in
1938. The very first poem is by Rachel Field, and I wonder
if she was thinking of Hitty:
A VALENTINE FOR OLD DOLLS by Rachel Field
Let others sing of cooing doves,
of beating hearts and new-found loves,
These my poor rhymes shall tell the graces
Of china, wax or wooden faces;
The charm of curls or painted braids,
Oh, sweet, perennially cheerful maids.
Your smiles shall last though natioins fall,
And the young hands that dressed you all
In flowered flounce and ribbons gay,
Long since to dust be laid away.
Your years you wear like faint perfume
of rose leaves in a quiet room,
When winter at the threshold knocks;
Like some old tune a music-box
tinkles as soft as phantom rain
Falling beyond a window pane.
And so, where'er you be to-day-
On parlor shelf; packed snug away
In attic camphor-still I'll praise
Your stiff-set limbs, your timeless gaze,
Knowing full well when I am gone
Thus you will sit and thus smile on.