St. Paul daily globe., 1892-06-13
THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE.
A Pen Picture That Is True Even
Ifa Little Harsh.

A Pen Picture That Is True Even
Ifa Little Harsh.
Philadelphia Record.
Now is the time of year when Mi
nerva. in the disguise of seventeen
year-old beauty, arrayed in white tulle,
with cerulean sash, holds forth in all
her glory. She is never SO pretty as
whea in this guise, and if she does not
impress her auditors favorably, why, IL
is their fault and not hers. One pretty
modern goddess has received the finish
ing touches To her education, and now
she is to show the world, fOrSo0th,
how much more she knows than her
less favored sisters; she has been delv-
Ing in things abStruSe during her
schooling, and, having protited thereby
in her own mind, she is going TO air her
knowledge, her wisdom, her superior
way of looking at the affairs of life; she
is going to tackle off-hand the serious
problems that have kept statesmen,
philosophers, political economists and
other cropping beings puZzllng for ages,
and intends to solve the cOnundrumS, to
settle the questions at issue, once and
for all, with her eX-cathedra opinions.
The title of her commencement essay
will strike awe III tie breasts of the
multitude OF friends who nave come TO
hear her read it and to lavish upon her
floral offerings and applause. 1t will be
The Relation Between Church and
State. or The Future Of the American
People" or THE Influence of Com
merce Upon Civilization" or The
Question of Labor and Capital"
or "The Status of Trusts"-or
anv of Il thousand and one other
subjects OF which. from the very nature
of her education, she must necessarily
be essentially and profoundly ignorant.
She does not satisfy herself with themes
to which she might do justice, such as
The Rise and Fail of the Tail of Ones
Skirt" or "The Advantages Of Gum as
an Alleyiator of Ennui," or "The
Evolution OF Bangs and Their
Value as a Beautitier"-but she
plunges into the vortex of polit-
ical and social burning questions where
all is hubbub and uncertainty. Her
essay, however, is very pretty one. 1t
is written in a beautiful English angular
hand, on fine linen notepaper. and the
sheets are fastened together with
shrimp-pink bow of ribbon; it aDOunds
with floNery periods, daring SMILES and
familiar quotations; and the thunders
of applause which greet the fair elOcu-
ZIONIST are sufficient testimony to the
excellence of the performance-ln the
eyes of her friends.
"When she comes out on the stage
with her roll of manuscript held i'll one
dainty hand, she is a very confident
young thing. The diffident members of
the class are never chosen as eSSayiStS;
they have declared again and again
that they would just die if they were
obliged to face an audience; so they re-
main behind the side-seene. to admire
the eSSayiSt'S cOmpOSure, and to eriti-
else the back of her gown. Meanwhile
the essayiSt begins. 1t is something like
this:
Dear Friends: The subject of my
essay is, DO Cosmic AfIinities Exist; If
Not, Why NOt?" pause, during which
she calmly looks over the audience and
waits until the emotion caused by her
title has subsidized. The effect is much
better ii she is near-Sighted and wears
little pince-neZ-butt they are not absO-
lutely necessary. I'm enteringupOn this
question the fOrceful argument Of Her
bert Spencer comes up to me and seems
almost irrefuta6le." (Here she quotes
about seven inches. column measure
ment. OF the philosOpher.) But (here
she advances her own theorleS); then
again. Darwin is called upon this
Lltle)s YET IL SSGilS u me kSOult HloIC
theories of her own, after which she
quotes several poets, ancient and mod
ern, whose lines, so far as her
hearers can discover. have no
bearing upon the question whatever).
Therefore, my friends, L think we can
say without fear of contradiction, with
entire confidence in our opinions, that
in the broader light of today, in the
illimitable researches Of modern times,
and the inexhaustible fields which CIV
ilization has thrown open to that re-
Search"Aetc. i
Here she winds up with a flow of
beautiful rhetoric, in which metaphor,
antithesis, metonomy and metalepsIs
are so mixed that. if she were to devote
the remainder of her life in efforts at
acknowledgements she would not have got
them straight.
But it sounds well. 1t is like the deep
roar of rolling breakers dashed upon
rOckbOund coast. and brings tumultuOuS
applause. She has demolished Spencer.
Huxley. Tyndall, Darwin, and all the
other old fogies at one fell swoop, and
she retires covered with glory and bur-
dened with flowers. The eternal hatred
of her classmates is also one of her re-
wards.