i was sitting in the living room today with my roommate caley and she said something about believing in fairies... and we laughed and i remembered my pressed fairy book. i re-found it just before i left for london and sometimes i wish i had it with me because it's so pretty, bizarre and interesting. i'm not sure who gave it to me... probably my mom, but i'm glad she did! it's angelica cottingham's personal journal/flower pressing book for almost her entire life. anyway, it's wonderful.

13th Jan 1903.

Today is my fifteenth birthday. I am grown-up at last. Mamma and Pappa invited me to have supper with them. It felt very strange. Mamma gave me a toasting fork and a pair of white gloves. Governess gave me a copy of The Household Compendium- an invaluable guide to all householders- and so of little interest to me. Cousin Nicholas gave me a photographic camera.

As I was getting into bed, I noticed a small fairy sitting under the wardrobe. It was crying. I bent down and picked it up! It was so upset it hardly seemed to notice or care. I set it down on the washstand and examined it. One wing appeared to be broken. It had little marks on its dress and its wand was bent.

"What's the matter?" I asked. But it just went on sobbing its heart out. This was the first time I had ever spoken to a fairy, so I said: "What is your name?" It looked up at me for a moment and then mumbled something like: "Pipskintinkle." But I couldn't get another word out of it. So I got out my flower pressing book and SNAP! I got it.

~Angelica at age 15

excerpt from froud's (author) website www.wourldoffroud.com