"Then you don't know who your real parents are, Connie?" I asked. "The only clue is the locket," she replied. "The name Connie and the date November, 1916, and the baby clothes that I was wearing. They are hand sewn with great care, my mother must have really loved me," she said. "But, enough of that, we have things to do, my sister!" "You can't use the shower tent any more, so use the shower here in the trailer, and hurry!"

My shower completed, I returned to the living room to find Connie all ready to begin my transformation. First my hair was set in curlers to dry while she attacked my nails. Soon they were nicely shaped and buffed with chalk and a buffer to a gleaming sheen. She then started on my face, cream and powder, mascara and lipstick and my lashes curled with a special curler til they gave me a wide eyed look of innocense. She then combed out the hair and added a small hairpiece in back to cover my neckline, remarking "In just a few weeks we won't need that!" I stepped into the bedroom and donned my chemise and the corset, under advice through the curtain from Connie and came back to her. She drew in the laces til I cried to stop, remarking, "You will soon get accustomed to this, my dear, now put on your hose and slip, and I will help you with this dress. We must be careful not to muss your hair." Soon I was as ready as I ever would be, she handed me a purse and my sunglasses and said, "now, we will just stroll down the street for a ways, away from the lot while I coach you on how to act like a girl does in public." So, arm in arm we started across the grassy lot to the sidewalk and walked under the overhanging trees toward the town in the dis- tance. I had a little trouble with my new shoes, was told to hold my legs straight and walk from the hips, putting the heel down to the ground with the toe of the shoe, not to "clomp," but to swing. I found it to be quite easy after a short distance, the higher heels forcing me to take a feminine stride and to walk with a movement of the hips, attractively, as I had so often admired girls doing.

"Now," said Connie. "Let's make with the purse! Don't carry it like a bag of sand, it is a pretty thing and a part of your wardrobe, handle it this way," and she demonstrated, carrying it lightly, with the arm slightly bent, sometimes by the strap, often held on the arm. I caught the idea, but the purse was the hardest thing to get accustomed to! I missed my pockets! "Throw your shoulders back, let your body curve, be fluid. Don't just walk, strut! See?," and she walked ahead of me to demonstrate. I was so fascinated that I forgot that I was supposed to be a girl too, and she promptly "called" me for it, an amused expression in her eyes!

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