Corra Mae Harris (March 17, 1869 February 7, 1935), was an American writer and journalist.
Excerpt
Sulgrave is a Southern town entirely surrounded by the world, as an island is surrounded by water, in it, but not of it; a kind old town with many voluminous mansions spreading themselves in wings and porticos over broad lawns, rich in ancient shrubbery and the best traditions, very wide at one end where all the streets reach out into the green land like sticks of a highly decorated fan, very narrow at the other end where the same streets draw together and fold into Washington Avenue. Here the mansions are larger, the lawns are wider, and the shade of the elm trees is deeper, as if greenness and whiteness and cleanness had reached the very I am of gentility.
Excerpt
Sulgrave is a Southern town entirely surrounded by the world, as an island is surrounded by water, in it, but not of it; a kind old town with many voluminous mansions spreading themselves in wings and porticos over broad lawns, rich in ancient shrubbery and the best traditions, very wide at one end where all the streets reach out into the green land like sticks of a highly decorated fan, very narrow at the other end where the same streets draw together and fold into Washington Avenue. Here the mansions are larger, the lawns are wider, and the shade of the elm trees is deeper, as if greenness and whiteness and cleanness had reached the very I am of gentility.