The Globe-republican., 1892-11-18
THE TOSS OF A COPPER.
Story Of My Experience with Two Lovers.
BY ALEXANDRA DUMAS, JR.
LETTER NO. 1.

LETTER NO. 4.
ADRIESSE TO HER SCHOOL FRIEND BLANCHE
I'm quite out Of patience with you
You promised to spend q fortnight will
mamma and me in the country, and vol
knew perfectly we'll that you wouldn'r
be able to keep your promise. Why
didn't you tell me the truth about it?
suppose you think q married woman
should not converse with a young CIR
about such things. At least that's what
mamma has just told me. In the first
place, I'm no longer little girl. was
eighteen my last birthday, and it's years
and years ago that l unlearned my no.
lions concerning the usefulness of the
stork family. 1t would have been a
very simple thing for you to write me a
few lines explaining the situation to
me. Have we ceased to be friends,
then, because, forsooth, q married wOm-
an is not supposed to have young girls
for her friends? Indeed, you take a
older are you than 1? A year at the
most. But you are now a married wom-
an and must weigh your words lest you
dispel the illusions of the manageable
maiden. Trash! My poor father had
no such silly ideas, and that's another
reason why his death was blow to me.
Do you want to know my opinion on
the subject of educating young girls?
They should be brought up by their
father when that father is an honorable
and intelligent man, as mine was.
Why do the mothers spurn the CO.
operation of the fathers in this matter?
Why are they continually saying to the
men: You don't understand anything
about educating girls.
And then why do they. the very next
day, intrust not only the education
but the very destiny of a daughter to
. man whom she has just met-often q
mere boy, without any experience him
self and completely ignorant of the
character, aspirations and ideas of his
intended? The change would be much
less abrupt and dangerous were it from
the hands OF fa'her to the arms of q
husband. Yes, I mean it, for I saw
how your husband put his arm hound
you when you went into the garden for
a moonlight stroll!
Oh, that ridiculous moon, with it's
swollen mo.her-of-pearl Jack Pudding
When I look at it-and
I've been looking at it a great deal a
Jews days past-I can't help saying to
myself what hasn't it seen and what
hasn't it heard since the first love-scene
in Eden? But how delightfully."- dis
Greet! 1t never tells tales out OF school,
but calmly continues to chase up the
sun without ever catching him. How
patient! After we are gone it will con-
tinue to do SO. Others will look at it
and dream and hope. and hope and
dream, and SO on forever. How pro-
voking 1t is not to amount to anything
more! At times. dear Blanche, I've q
great notion to betake me to convent, to
get into one of those big white, wooden
gowns, which never f1t, to stop talking,
stop thinking, stop living. in fact, just
let time wear me away. But unfortu-
nately in converts they don't wash
from head to foot every
If it weren't for that I'd bury
myself in one of them at once. I'd be
willing to give up my hair, which you
may recollect is very beautiful, but I
never could got accustomed to the idea
Of not having feet daintily white and
cared for. I go to see
Sister Ursula sometimes, and while
chatting with her the other day made
known to her how my yearnings and
were always graphing with
each other. I declared myself strong
enough to triumph over these moments
Of weakness, provided the bishop would
permit me to have next my cell a dress
ing room such as 1 have here. Inn
possible!" she exclaimed. the rules
forbid it. And, besides. my daughter"
n oh