Love from Mary 1923

This inscription (in the book that I blipped yesterday) by my mother, then aged three-and-three-quarters, fascinates me. Clearly, her hand has been guided (and I can recognise my grandmother's handwriting) as she inscribed this book to her father. It was her present to him on his 35th birthday. He was then, it turns out, just halfway through his life, as he only just made his three-score-years-and-ten. Can't think this writing exercise will have done the pen's nib any favours, but I cherish it as, doubtless, he did, too.