Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1875-05-15
BEHIND THEIR FANS.
FROM TIE FRENCH OF GUsrAvE DRoz


FROM TIE FRENCH OF GUsTAVE DROZ.
Last evening | was guilty of a very
shameful action. / hid behind a cur
tanned door and listened to a cOnYersa-
tion, and, what makes it still more un-
pardonable in me, l cannot help telling
you what beard. 1t was this;
had been at the ball about half an
hour when l saw in the corner of the
parlor, through the door which leads
into the conservatory, n little group of
three young girls, arrayed in billOWs of
white muslin, who were talking behind
their fans with so much animation that
it was impossible not to notice them.
These three girls had reached that
age when young wOmen's hands are
slender but still rosy, when their forms
have still that charming delicacy which
some people call thinness and others
youthfulness, and when their move
ments have that excessive suPpleness
which is like awkwardness, but which
il would be the height of art to initiate
Leaning back with easy grace in their
arm-chairs, which were drawn up close
together, they were laughing unre-
STRANGELY. Already women and CO.
quettes, they would from time to time
stretch out their well-gloved hands and
pat their ample drGperies with a thou
sand little gestures. They were already
mistresses of the art of looking at
things without seeing them, of laugh.
ing when they were not amused, of
showing their white teeth while smooth
ing their gloves at the wrist, and while
modestly looking down of giving a Vi
bration to their voices like the striking
Of glass, which cannot fail to attract
attention. They had, too, the trick of
stopping short in the midst of move
ment and posing that you might see
the turn Of a shoulder or a graceful
arm, and of turning their profile to you
TO show pretty nose, of catching up
their skirts and turning away with a
movement like q frightened dove till
the ear alone is visible, and replying,
''Oh, how you frightened mew when
YOU have said nothing to them but
s'HOw do you do ?' Then their way of
pTattliug unceasinkiy without rhyme
or reason, or when both ideas and words
fail them of eNclaiming, ooh oh oh
yes, indeed - while stroking their hair.
All, dear little creaturesl l love
them just rs they are, so knowing and
so pure, so gracious ana so skillful.
really love these little angels who make
their entrace into the great world be-
tween two pOlkas-Who 90 to ball
instead of going to bed-who broke
their doll into pieces two days ago, and
now think of painting themselves under
the eyes like mamma-who know to a
louis'the price of cashmere shawls-are
connoisscurs in diamonds, look men
straight in the eyes, are all worn out
when Lent comes, and who during hOl-
iday week, after devoUtly nibbling a
bit of salmon salad run off To their re-
ligiOus exercises in. bOets with tassels
and their hair powdered. l love these
little painted lambs rs one loves roses in
December or green peas in the middle
of January. There Is simplicity even
in their excessive selfpossessiOn-som
thing, at any rate, which reminds one
of green apples which one longs to
taste.
They are already women-in fact,
they were when they were born-but
still one gUesses at their motives, reads
their little thoughts; sometimes, too.
one finds a clue which is like revela-
ton. They are
But pardon me, young ladies'! / am
afraid am going too far; perhaps a.
you turn over these pages you will re-
call the gentleman who was looking at
you 50 aJtentively the other evening.
Perhaps you will recognize yourselves,
however imperfect the sketch may be.
and then But il is too late now not
to tell you all.
l slyly opened the library door, and
turned 10 the left, 1 made NV way to
the conservatory, and stationed myself
directly behind you, near the door, in
the folds of the curtain, and there I
heard it all. | did even more than
that; in coming away l snapped off a
branch of camelia. What follows is
merely the work of reporter; if mem
Ory or skill is lacking forgive me and l
will do better another time.
mo, said the youngest, looking at
her pink satin slipper, Il mean the one
with the decoration in his button hole;
don't you see him? He is standing by
the mantlepiece, by the side of the big
bald man in white waistcoat."
"Why, the big bald man is not A col
Onel-nO indeed. I know him very
well; he comes 10 see papa. It's Mr..
Thingamy-some queer name. After
every visit of hiswe find two casters off
the easy chair. Mamma says he's cleY-