The Bolivar bulletin. [volume] (Bolivar, Hardeman County, Tenn.) 1865-1888, 1875-05-07
BEHIND THEIR FANS.

-
FROM THE FRENCH OF GUsTAvE DROZ.
Last evening I was guilty of very
shameful action. I hid behind cur
tanned door and listened to a conversa-
tion, and, what makes it still more IN
pardonable in me, cannot help telling
you what I heard. It was this.
had been at the ball about half an
hour when saw in a corner of the par
lor, through the door which leads into
| the conservatory, 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 it
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 unrestrain-
edly. Already women and coquettes,
they would from time to time stretch
out their well-gloved hands and pat
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
attentions They had, too, the trick of
stopping short in the midst of move
ment aud posing that you might see the
turn of a shoulder or q graceful arm,
and of turning their profile to you to
show a pretty nose, of catching up
their skirts and turning away with a
movement like a frightened dove till
the ear alone is visible, and replying,
''Oh, how you frightened me !" when
you have said nothing to them but
Glow do you do p Then their way of
prattling increasingly without rhyme or
fail them of exclaiming, 'Oh oh oh
yes, indeed - while stroking their hair.
All, dear little creatures I love
them just as they are, so knowing and
so pure, so gracious and go skillful. I
really love these little angels who make
their entrance into the great world be-
tween two polkas-Who go to q 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
| cOnnoisseurs in diamonds, look men
straight in the eye, are all worn out
when Lent comes, and who during hoh-
| day week, after devoutly nibbling bit
of salmon salad run off to their religious
n,
| their hair powdered. love these little
| painted lambs as one loves roses in De-
| cember or green peas In the middle of
| January. There is simplicity even in
| their excessive seH-possessiOn some
| 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 clue which is like a revela-
ton. They are
But pardon me, young ladies am
afraid L am going too far f; perhaps as
you turn over these pages you will re-
call the gentleman who was looking at
you so attentively the other evening.
! Perhaps you will recognize yourselves,
however imperfect the sketch may be,
and then But it is too late now not to
| tell you all.
I slyly opened the library door, and
turned to the left, made my 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 snapped off branch
| of oil SC U
the work of a reporter if memory or
skill is lacking forgive me and will do
better another time.
"No," said the youngest. looking at
her pink satin slipper, "Imean the one
with the decoration in his button hole ;
don't you see him2 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
colOnel-nO indeed. I know him very
well he comes to see papa. It's Mr..
Thingamy-some queer name. After
every visit of his we find two casters of
the easy chair. Mamma says he's clever,
papa says he's not as for me, I think
he smells of pomade.
"Where does he put his pomade
He has hardly three hairs on his head. .
eyes, but they curl, my dear. am
sure he ought to wear little crimson
velvet cap with tassels. Dear me how
I do hate a man as fat as that Papa,
who is slender in comparison with this
bear, seems to lne a httIe-when he Is
shaving -. Well if it was not papa
I should like to plane him down {
little"
"But, girls. don't mean the stout
one I mean the one by hiE side, will
! I =
= he Is taking an ice. He seems to be
} lion. Now he's blowing his nose he
Col. c.
: "Oh yes, I see. Dear me how har,
he blows his nose Your colonel has
t cold one can hear him from here
{ ha hat"
2 There is nothing strange in his hav
] ing a cold; he has Just come from AT