Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1898-01-12
4 SOCIAL FAILURE.

her first party. In these few words was
written the history Of her little tragedy
and Of the countless little tragedies that
go to make up the great undercurrent of
society, while it's surface is ever of the
same hcartless brilliancy We beg for
woman $ rights yet it seems to me that
| they like charity should begin at home
or IN the homes of her friends, where of
ten. invited rs an honored guest she is
tho veriest slave to conventionality. If it
might only be that young girl at social
functions could have all the Independence
that she demands elsewhere AS it now
| is, she must rely upon three things-her
wit, n man and chaperon. The first fail
ing, the second is very apt to, while the
| third proclaims an ignomonious retreat
We're her privileges the same as those of
| the more fortunate man. she would be free
| from all embarrassment. We're it no more
cause for remark to find woman stag
| ging it, or standing alone ut Il ball than
! 1t Is to see II man smoking on the piazza
or leaning in blase attitude in the door
way how much happier she would be. 1t
would do away with all that vulgar talk
about being stuck with n girl, " when she
is far the more miserable of the two, real
! ling her abjcct dependence on this stick
of humanity who has not enough tact to
hide from her the fatal fact that he can
not get away.
You may argue that even were these
privileges granted that II man when sought
by maiden might bow himself away
without any conjunction and she would
still be where she is now But no, the cir
cumstance surrounding her social failure
would be entirely different. 1t would not
hos oil
ways be certain amount of conjecture
concerning it. AT any rate, the world
could not say the next day: Poor Ara
bella, she came to the ball last night with
out a chaperon and spent the whole even
ing with one man! suppose the next
thing we shall hear Will be that She dOcsn
care for society and is going to become IA
trained nurse.
Why does the world always make these
| remarks with IL peculiar smile of amuse-
ment, rs though such things were very
trivial and its only real interest was cen
tered in the tactful beautiful woman, who,
to be sure, wins all the more glory under
the present regime? But, then, old world
you only laugh with us. - You were
never known to condole. So | suppose
you Will find nothing to attract your at
tention in the incident which | am about
to relate regarding the girl who was poor,
who was ugly and who went to her first
party
A cousin under obligations to her moth
err had been asked to take her. A heavy
snow had fallen, which, though the dis
lance was not great, necessitated a car
rage, a fact not adding to the cousins
good humor No flowers need be sent
however, SO there was some consolation in
hnt bad Z u,rh no
long awning like hurrying phantoms of
the night, "a great wave OF light from the
opening door had engulfcd them. They
found themselves borne resistlessly along
with the crowd surging up the broad stair.
way and dropped finally into their respec-
tive dressing rooms-the one all full of
eager, chattering voices, soft, fluffy wraps
fur lined Shoes etc, the other staid sober
study in black and white, blurred by much
smoke.
Arabela, for that was her name, quick
ly freed herself of the old made over
cloak in order to display the dainty, lace
trimmed muslin which showed a mothers
deft touches Then she went to the mir
TOR, where all the others went, but the
contrast between her own homcly face and
the happy, pretty ones that pecpcd over
her shoulders to get last glimpse of rec
ommendatlon was too great. so she
turned away with little sigh, Joined her
cousin, who waited outside, and went sol
EMMY down the wide stairs As they
made the first turn n vision so wonderful
spread itself below that she impul-Iyely
grlsped her companions arm, exclaiuliur,
"Oh, how beautiful" while he, to cover
his annoyance, said laughingly: " Bur You
must appear very used to ii all You must
not let every one know that il is your first
party"
so she accordingly became very quiet,
but she could not help thinking thar the
long ezpanse of polished floor appeared to
be saying, Come, dancing feet, I'm wait
ing, and l long to be caresSed by the soft
touch OF downy skirts, that the massive
chandeliers stretched out their arms in 81
lent bcnediction over the fair scene, which
the mirrors never wearied of repeat ing.