Your name is Sarah.
A stranger has walked up to you, explained how a system of transportation works, and left before you could further converse with him.
You call pancakes “flapjacks,” “hoecakes,” “griddle bibs,” or anything other than “pancakes.”
You have a propensity for turning on the radio just as some world-changing news is reported. Also, you still listen to the radio.
Your best friend is a horse.
People often tell you not to be afraid of things, including icy ponds, beauty parlors, muskets, ferrets, the dark, and hot stew. Invariably, you have to interact with this thing before too long.
You are tired of the way you must dress every day, which involves seventeen layers, one of which itches.
Handsome men make you swoon. No one else is concerned about the swooning, which is not a thing that 21st-century people actually do.
Your mother is either dead or dead-set on getting you married as quickly as possible.
Men have compared you to an animal (a cow, a mule, a fox), and you did not tweet your outrage about it, because you have never heard of Twitter.
You often have conversations in which predictions are made that will prove to be ironic: “I think that William Henry Harrison, the 9th and current president of the United States, looks very well this cold February day, and will likely serve out two, or more, full terms!”
You carry, fling, wear, shake, tuck, bite, wave, flap, beckon with, hide, show off, remove, and fan yourself with your gloves.
You have a younger brother named Jimmy, Bobby, Billy or Davy, and he is a scamp.
You have met Mark Twain at the moment you needed to make a pivotal, life-changing decision. He was gruff but charming, laughing but wise. His eyes twinkled.
You currently hate the man you will end up marrying. He most likely works with your father. This dislike started in elementary school when he teased you in some gentle but humiliating way. You put him in his place by winning the spelling bee.
Your favorite song is the only one anyone remembers from your time period.
You are so beautiful naturally you do not need makeup, which is convenient because it’s hard to research makeup.
Also, your hair is naturally gorgeous and requires no product. You are most likely a redhead. If not, you have “glints of fiery red” in your brown hair.
You have a maid either scolds you or adores you, or both. You have never shown the slightest interest in exploring her interior life. Neither has she.
You are a feminist with high-minded principles that you will not compromise. You are for education and voting rights. You also approve of civil rights for all, including people of color and gay people. However, you have not knowingly interacted with either, except for that gentle giant of an enslaved man you helped find the next stop on the Underground Railroad, in defiance of your father.
You stop by a general store at least once a week. You are very interested in the calicos.
You have a pony, a jalopy, or a Mustang convertible your brother fixed up for you.
You eagerly await the mail.
You think you do not like dancing until the guy who works for your dad forces you to dance. Then it turns out that you love it. It is high-spirited fun! Your make-up free face glows beautifully. As the guy who works for your dad pulls you in for a closed-mouth, yet passionate, kiss, you glimpse Mark Twain nodding approvingly before he slips out the door into the night.