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.
