The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1913-02-10
az ESTHER GRIFFIN WHITE.
It's nice to be a cute little thing.

BY ESTHER GRIFFIN WHITE.
It's nice to be cute little thing.
While you are one.
1t doesn't last much over twenty,
though.
And then-pity the fate of the cute
little one.
For it's fatal to be cute when you're
out of your teens.
This was given a local illustration
the other night when Miss FRITZ
Scheff piroutted before the Gennett
footlights.
About fifteen years ago Scheff real
ly was cute little thing.
She appeared with the Metropolitan
Grand Opera Company and made
sensation.
Was the pet of the company.
INDUCED and spoiled by everybody.
Could give full reign to every ca
price, every whim.
Had a beautiful figure. Beautiful
eyes and hair. An adorable complex
ion. Lovely voice.
Now she merely gives the illusion of
cuteness.
It's a veil through which you see a
hideous spectre approaching.
The spectre Of age.
In five, ten years Scheff will be a
pitiable spectacle.
That is, if she still tries to be cute.
It's too bad woman as she should
ever get old.
Her charm is essentially that of
youth.
1t is made up of the immaturities,
the WITNESSES, the vagaries, the allure
ments of the spring-time Of life.
And age to such a woman is worse
than the thumb-screw.
No hades will ever hold blacker hor-
rors for Scheff than comfortable, stod-
gy middle age.
When her waist-line is no longer in
tact.
When the beautiful flat back will
begin to curve when presented in pro-
file.
When her little ways" will be little
| ways no longer but ridiculous manner
isms.
is that she never knows when it's all
over.
When the curtain has been rung
down, the lights are out, the orchestra
is oozing through the hole under the
stage and the janitor is locking up the
front entrance.
She stands dazed on the deserted
and desolate stage.
Still feeling sure that there will be
an encore.
That she will be recalled.
You can see 'em any day in the
week without intervening footlights.
Everybody has one within his ken.
On his repertoire.
They are marooned on the side
streets and attending wOmen's parties
! in the afternoons.
For the cute little one is usually re-
| duced to the last social ditch.
From having been tagged nv ca'~~''
masculinities in her salad days she
has gone down the line to bridge AID
euchre on alternating weeks, stock
company matinees, college class days
and other solaces for the unattached
| She still brides and looks coy, skips
around and smokers in corners, rolls
! her eyes and fuses with her hair, bah.
only caricature.
| A makeshift.
Neither here nor there.
Neither girl nor woman.
Occupying a half and half position
lettering toward the future and CO
quoting with the past, sort of mon
grel without any anchorage. A femi
nine derelict floating aimlessly about
and never getting outside certain so
cial zones.
You've seen them, these chubby lit
tie women who used to be cute lit
| tie things.
Unable to realize that they are nc
longer cute.
| Merely fat.
Who continue to dimple and gurgle
and flirt.
The writer saw one of them not long
since.
On the platform.
For they are as apt as not to be
found in that uncertain territory PEG
I pied by women who go out to lecture
to women's clubs or take to social set
| Element work.
What a boon has the woman's club
whirlpool not been to the ennuied
woman no longer able to exercise her
feminine power over men.
| Jane Carlyle should have lived in
this generation.
She needed the present day activi
ties of the sex as vent for her rest
| less and vivacious vagaries.