Daily Los Angeles herald., 1882-05-10
SWEET SIXTEEN.
Ye Hsthetic Editor Maunders Over a
,lple of Lively School Girls and
Advises Them to Die Young.
detroit Free Press. !

She was in palace car munching car
amels and laughing as only a girl can,
you know, with her sweet face all dim
Piles, that played bo-peep with each
other and the very mischief with me,
woman that l am.
There were two of the witches, but
the other one seemed shade demure;
had, | suspect, that most uncertain of
all passions under the sun, a lover, who
probably had not written to her for the
long eternity of twenty-four hours;
hence the fit of shadow across the
sunshine of her joy.
How rosy and beautiful they looked,
dipping slender finger and thumb into a
bag of sugar plums-not q bit sweeter
than they-and laughing at their own
delicious fancies, as if life held nothing
graver; and | just wanted to hug both
of them, anyway.
My dimpler wore brown sacque, half
slipped off from one rounded shoulder,
full of cunningest dimples, no doubt;
her hat of many pokes and plumes and
other mysteries, among which angels
would fear to tread, bobbed and nodded
tantalizingly on top of most coquettish
bangs, while her blue eyes fairly danced,
so brimful of fun were they.
How l shuddered to think of the un-
love, possibilities hidden away among the
shadows of the years-the cruel, cruel
years They would bring her the stern
necessity of wearing her brown sacque
circumspectly on her dimpled shoulders;
her fluffy hair, of the color of pale gold
that the June sun rains down on the tas-
sells of corn, defiant now of band or braid,
drawn back in properest precision; III
diculousness in investing ten cents III
villainous bon bons, and munching, re-
gardless, in car of solemn wiseacres;
and, worse than ALL the suppressed gig
gle of society limitations, if, from the
wreck of matter, anything remains to
smile at.
And then the longing of soul for new
bonnets and things; the hankering after
kindred spirits and antique soup bowls;
the refuge of Sunday headaches; the
worriment of washdays and church So
cials; the broken friendships and shat
tered painted China teacups; the plan-
ming of 365 dinners, to say nothing of
breakfast hash and afternoon teas, year
after year, all the way through; the
careless morning wrapper and general
slipshodness of home belongings; the
unopened piano and much read novel;
the gossip, the shrugs and the rest. So
said in my troubled heart-but so low
that none might hear-to her of the
dimples and mischief-lurking blue eyes,
laugh ON, my rosy unknown, for my soul
hears no sweeter music under the blue
arch that is said to shut heaven
from our upward gaze; MUNICH
caramels to your hearts content,
though the world frowns its worst.
Time enough to draw down the corners
of your kissable mouth into forlorn little
FUCKERS, when the aforesaid world shall
push, and hurt, and grieve you; time
enough to hush the ring of your merry
laughter when the unfriendly winters
shall "pelt you with snowballs," " instead
of the pink and white roses the spring
time tosses you to-day.
If only fashion would keep her de-
structive clutch from your young life; if
hattery with its treacherous train would
pass on by the other side, if only they
would!
Better that the gods love you, and
you go softly out some still morrow, in
search of the shore from whose blossom
ing borders no leaf or bud even comes
drifting across the backward tide, better
and safer.