From 8-year old Hilda’s diary:
Uncle Milton told me that there is going to be a dog show in San Rafael on the twenty-third of this month and he would like to put Brownie into it and maybe Brownie would win a prize. I asked him what he would win. He said that it might be a silver cup or a blue ribbon or even both. I said that was just plain mean, why didn’t they give him a nice steak or a roast beef bone or a new ball? Uncle Milton said that I shouldn’t worry so much about it because Brownie would be in competition with many other dogs and probably wouldn’t get anything at all as he isn’t so perfect or so beautiful. Then I got mad and said that he too is beautiful, he is the most beautiful dog in the whole world and I stamped my feet and yelled and I said that they don’t have to give him a prize at all because I would buy him a blue ribbon myself and a pink one or whatever color I thought Brownie would like if I had enough money. I said that I would give him my silver egg cup that my grandparents in Germany sent to me, the one with little chickens on it and that’s all gold inside. Uncle Milton said that I should and it was fine with him and that as a matter of fact, I should wrap it up right now with pink and blue ribbons because he knows that Brownie won’t win a prize. Why are grown-ups so mean, even Uncle Milton?