However, I do not call it being a good sport to see one’s daughter perfectly wreched and do nothing to help. And more than that, to willfully permit one’s child to suffer, and enjoy it.
But it was father, after all, who got the Jolt, I think, when he saw me get out of the taxicab.
Therefore I will not explain, for a time. A little worry will not hurt him either.
I will not send him his copy for a week.
Perhaps, after all, I will give him somthing to worry about eventually. For I have recieved a box of roses, with no card, but a pen and ink drawing of a Gentleman in evening clothes crawling onto a fire-escape through an open window. He has dropped his Heart, and it is two floors below.
My narative has now come to a conclusion, and I will close with a few reflections drawin from my own sad and tradgic Experience. I trust the Girls of this School will ponder and reflect.
Deception is a very sad thing. It starts very easy, and without Warning, and everything seems to be going all right, and No Rocks ahead. When suddenly the Breakers loom up, and your frail Vessel sinks, with you on board, and maybe your dear Ones, dragged down with you.
Oh, what a tangeled
Web we wieve,
When first we practice to decieve.
Sir Walter Scott.
THEME: THE CELEBRITY
We have been requested to write, during this vacation, a true and varacious account of a meeting with any Celebrity we happened to meet during the summer. If no Celebrity, any interesting character would do, excepting one’s own Familey.
But as one’s own Familey is neither celebrated nor interesting, there is no temptation to write about it.
As I met Mr. Reginald Beecher this summer, I have chosen him as my Subject.
Brief history of the Subject: He was born in 1890 at Woodbury, N. J. Attended public and High Schools, and in 1910 graduated from Princeton University.
Following year produced first Play in New York, called Her Soul. Followed this by the Soul Mate, and this by The Divorce.
Description of Subject. Mr. Beecher is tall and slender, and wears a very small dark Mustache. Although but twenty-six years of age, his hair on close inspection reveals here and there a Silver Thread. His teeth are good, and his eyes amber, with small flecks of brown in them. He has been vacinated twice.
It has alwavs been one of my chief ambitions to meet a Celebrity. On one or two occasions we have had them at school, but they never sit at the Junior’s table. Also, they are seldom connected with either the Drama or The Movies (a slang term but aparently taking a place in our Literature).
It was my intention, on being given this subject for my midsummer theme, to seek out Mrs. Bainbridge, a lady Author who has a cottage across the bay from ours, and to ask the privelege of sitting at her feet for a few hours, basking in the sunshine of her presence, and learning from her own lips her favorite Flower, her favorite Poem and the favorite child of her Brain.