The Hawaiian star. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu]) 1893-1912, 1902-07-19

some day and never return | have
nowhere to go-no money, and l know
the world quite too well to put the
slightest faith in it's voluntary kindness
Of heart But how much better and
wider, less damned, less maddening to
go out into it and be beaten and cheat
ed and fooled with, than this-ths
thing that gathers itself easily into
circle made of six toothbrushes with
a sutticiency of surplus damnation.
often l walk out to a place on the
fiat valley, below the town, to hrt with
Death. There is within me a latent
spirit of coquetry it appears.
Down on the fiat there is a certain
deep, dark hole, with several feet of
water at the bottom.
Il go there sometimes in the early
evening, and kneel on the edge Ct it
and lean over the dark pit, with my
hand grasping a wooden stake that is
driven into the ground near by. And 1
drop little stones down and hear them
splash hollowly, and it sounds a long
way off.
There is something wonderfully
soothing, wonderfully comforting to
my unrestful, aching wooden heart in
the dark mystery of this fascinating
hole. Here is the End for me, if
want there is the Ceasing, when l
want it. And l lean over and smile
quietly
No flowers l say softly to myself,
no weeping idiots, no senseless fune-
raj no oily undertaker's fussing over
my womans body no useless Christian
prayers. Nothing but this deep, dark,
restful grave
There are several things in the world
for which l, of womankind and 10 years
have conceived a fOrcible repugnance-
or rather, the feeling was born in me;
1 did not have to conceive it.
"Often my mind chants a ferVent
litany of its own that runs somewhat
like this:
From women and men who dispense
odors of musk from little boys with
long curls; from the kind of people who
call woman's figure her 'shape'-kind
devil, deliver me,
From all sweet girls from gentle
men,; from feminine men-kind devil,
deliver me.
From isle thread stockings; from
round, tight carriers; from brilliant
brass bet-kind devil, deliver me.
From insipid sweet wine; from men
who wear mustaches; from the sort of
people that call legs limbs from be-
draggled white petticoats-6ind devil,
deliver me.
Kind devil, if you are not to fetch me
steel key-rins a bright little key to the
door of the glittering, cleaning bad
things, and give it me, and show me
the way, and wish me joy
Il would like to live about seven
years of judiciOus badness, and then
death, if you will. Nineteen years Of
damnabie nothingness, seven years of
| judicious badness-and then death. A
noble ambition! But might it not be
worse? If not that, then nineteen
years of damnable nothingness, and
then death. No; when the lead is in
the sky that does not appeal to me.
My versatile mind turns to the seven
| years of judicious badness.
II have seventeen little engraved
portraits of Napoleon that l keep in one
| of my bureau drawers. Often late in
| the evening, between 8 and 10 o'clock,
when l come in from a walk over the
sand and barrenness, take these pic
| lures from the drawer and gaze at
them carefully a long time and think
of that man until 1 am stirred to the
depths.
And then easily and naturally fall
in love with Napoleon. The
seventeen pictures are all different and
all alike. l fall in love with each pic
ture separately
I'm one he is ugly and unattractive-
and strong. l fall in love with him.
I'm another he is cruel and heartless
and utterly selfsh-and strong. l fall
in love with him.
I'm a third he has a fat, pudgy look,
and is quite Observation-Disclosures strong.
l fall in love with him.
I'm fourth he is grandly sad and
full of despair-and strong. l fall In
love with him.
"I have two pictures of Marie Bash
| kirtseff high upon my wall OFTEN L
lean my head on the back of the chair
with my feet on the bureau-always
with my feet on the bureau-and look
at these pictures.
THE portraits of the Bashl1irtseff
are certainly beautiful, but there is
something about them that is-well,
not common, but bourgeois at least, as
if she were a German waitress of I'M
usual appearance, or an aristocratic
shopgirl, or a nurse with good taste
who would walk out on pleasant fore
Moons wheeling go-cart-something
OF that sort. Perhaps it is because her
neck is too short, or because her wrists
are too muscular looking. l thank a
gracious devil as / look up at the pic
| lures that l have not those particular
| points and that particular bourgeois
air. l am bound to confess that l have
one of my own, but mine is Highland
! Scotch-and anyway 1 am Mary Mac
/ Lane.
But none of them, nor any one, can
know the feeling made of relief and
| pain and despair that comes over me
at the thought OF sending all this to the
wise world. 1t is bits of my wooden
| heart broken off and given away. 1t is
strings of amber beads taken from the
/ fair neck of my soul. 1t is shining lit
tie gold coins from out of my minds
red leather purse. 1t is my little old
! fe-tragedy."
TANn MARK TO co