The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1890-08-06
DIARY OF MARIE sAcksAYsHlFr.
A Blue-blooded Boston Girl who Is the
Type of the Age.

A Biue-blooded Boston Girl who Is the
Type of the Age.
All, mon Dieu! Fifteen years old
to-day, and not one affaire du ceur to
look back on-mon Dieu! will be
loved! / am young! / am beautiful!
1 am svelte! / am chic! (Smashes
chair.) All, mon Dieu! but l will be
loved!
Tuesday-Ye Yesterday, after my ebul-
lition of passion, during which looked
very handsome (my eyes flashed and
my beautiful nostrils dilated), dressed
myself carefully in my purple moire
antique, with the green ribbons, let
ting my stockings fall little loosely
about my ankles, and thrusting a
large yellow jonquil in my belt,
tripped lightly down the stairs, sing
ing as went, that little chanson:
Oh, to feel the breath
That comes through soft mustache;
To lean my head on manly breast
Without being considered rash.
My voice is beautiful one. Would
Mt like to sing in Music Hall, and
raise the roof, and make Patti tear her
imperial dyed hair with rage. All,
mon Dieu! (The reason / say mon
Dieu so muchis because had French
governess. Oh, she was une mignonne
"a corker! She taught me to roll
cigarettes and read Zola. All, friend
of my infancy, in what paths do your
tender feet wanderP Art thou listen
ing to seraphic music in the heavenly
spheres or wandering on the dull orb?
She ran off with a herdic driver.
could have killed him.)
Still singing, slipped into the draw
ing-room, where l knew man from
some dry goods establishment was put
ting up curtains. l went swiftly over
to the step-ladder on which he stood.
He was beautiful. His hair, of rich
deep red, was dressed pompadour, and
his nose was Roman. Oh, Rome!
Rome! goal of my young infancy, even
nose will turn my thoughts to thee.
Of do not succeed in music shall 90
to Rome and study art! All, mon
Dieu! Glorious, heavenly art! Art
can not exist without artists, and artists
are usually men! Oh, art, beautiful
artD But the man on the ladder.
turned an arch look upon him q am
always arch), and said in low trem-
bling voice: "Did it rain when you
came IMP"
NOG nucn, Hiss, Stlu Ho.
Ugh! howl hate that word Miss
SO bourgeously, so sou-endy. I shook
the ladder with rage. He lost his bal
not so much to save him as to feel his
manly breath on my cheek. All, mon
Dieu, for one instant was delirious
woman" he cried, s'where's your keep
nd pIrf
I adore you," cried; and with that he
picked up his leather apron and hat,
and ran quickly from the room. Poor
boy, how he loved me! He was pale
with passion, but no longer love him
l tire of him. Alas! he loved me too well,
and no man shall ever kiss me!
swear it. Mon Dieu! All, love, love,
when shall find love?
Wednesday, have been reading
"The Quick or the Dead" ''Thor
Shalt Not" and THE Evil That Mer
Do" All, what grand thoughts are in
them, mon Dieu!
Thursday wanted a sweet brace
let that l saw down at Bogigan's thi:
morning. Another girl bought it be
fore could get home and ask nam
ma. I threw an inlaid table straight
through the plate glass window anC
put my foot through a showcase. Why
not be frank and candid, mon Dieu
and act as you feelP
Friday-Ah, but I am cruel! 1 fee
! have no heart, and can never know ;
grande passion. To-day / met hand
some man at o'clock tea. deftly
stood in front of him for one hour, anG
kept him from talking to anyone else
was brilliant in conversation, ris que
brusque! said:
You are a naughty man."
'How so, Miss BackbayshiftP"
''Oh, know you are"
'.But-"
"You want to firt with me. l know
you do. Don't you try to squeeze m,
hand"
But | assure you"
But you may. Here it is. Nobod,
is looking. You may kiss it if yol
like"
But do not like, Miss Backbay
shift. 1 haven't any desire to kiss you
hand, and you are great bore.
you will kindly let me get away fror
threw my cup of chocolate in hi
face and let him go. The man is ma
to love me SO passionately. Why, VIII
can never reciprocate love? All, mo-
Dieul
Saturday. have been to the Sym
phony concert. l cast burning glance
at all the orchestra, and smiled in sut
missive style. None of them looked a
me. They do not yet appreciate m
style; am not like other girls. Their
was one silly young thing in front G
me who got smile from one of tn
yiolins. promptly ran the Who'll
length of my hat pin into her back
Cell! Then I went home, and, afte
taking hot bath, stood at the ope
window for an hour with only pon
gee wrapper on. Mon Dieu! If
can't attract attention any other way
I'll die young.
Sunday-Tried to get the minister
walk home with me. He went to see
sick boy instead. Ugh! have take
a box of liver pills and ate Welsh rare
bit. l will be sick, and he shall com
to see me. Mon Dieu!-Boston Satu,
~rddy E0e'siaag Gazette.
Gander and Rat.
A goose on the Lingle farm hatche
out fine family of goslings last weel
says letter in the N. Y. San. Sh