e'd gone on the whole time about how she ought to wear spectacles;
she knew she needed them; but that it was no good getting any; they'd be
sure to break and they'd never keep on. And he'd been so patient. He'd
suggested everything--gold rims, the kind that curved round your ears,
little pads inside the bridge. No, nothing would please her. "They'll
always be sliding down my nose!" Miss Brill had wanted to shake her.

The old people sat on the bench, still as statues. Never mind, there was
always the crowd to watch. To and fro, in front of the flower-beds and
the band rotunda, the couples and groups paraded, stopped to talk, to
greet, to buy a handful of flowers from the old beggar who had his tray
fixed to the railings. Little children ran among them, swooping and
laughing; little boys with big white silk bows under their chins, little
girls, little French dolls, dressed up in velvet and lace. And sometimes
a tiny staggerer came suddenly rocking into the open from under the
trees, stopped, stared, as suddenly sat down "flop," until its small
high-stepping mother, like a young hen, rushed scolding to its rescue.
Other people sat on the benches and green chairs, but they were
nearly always the same, Sunday after Sunday, and--Miss Brill had often
noticed--there was something funny about nearly all of them. They were
odd, silent, nearly all old, and from the way they stared they looked as
though they'd just come from dark little rooms or even--even cupboards!

Behind the rotunda the slender trees with yellow leaves down drooping,
and through them just a line of sea, and beyond the blue sky with
gold-veined clouds.

Tum-tum-tum tiddle-um! tiddle-um! tum tiddley-um tum ta! blew the band.

Two young girls in red came by and two young soldiers in blue met them,
and they laughed and paired and went off arm-in-arm. Two peasant women
with funny straw hats passed, gravely, leading beautiful smoke-coloured
donkeys. A cold, pale nun hurried by. A beautiful woman came along and
dropped her bunch of violets, and a little boy ran after to hand them to
her, and she took them and threw them away as if they'd been poisoned.
Dear me! Miss Brill didn't know whether to admire that or not! And now
an ermine toque and a gentleman in grey met just in front of her. He
was tall, stiff, dignified, and she was wearing the ermine toque she'd
bought when her hair was yellow. Now everything, her hair, her face,
even her eyes, was the same colour as