May 26, 1913 - Monday

26 - Another girl took dictation with me this A.M. She can't write as fast as I can. Name's Miss Clark. Barty wasn't as cross as she has been lately. Was late at noon, but worked a little trick I have. I go in, take down a "tardy slip" from where a bunch of them hang, and walk to my seat. Then I just forget to fill out the slip. Of course, Damocles (Miss Sherman) is bound to catch on after a while, but so far she's satisfied with seeing me get a slip.

Saw Mat to-night and took a walk with her. We sat on my porch for a long time afterwards. San seems to have entirely queered himself with her by a disgusting remark made in the part of his diary which she captured. I don't wonder, and you wouldn't either, dear reader, if you'd seen said remark. Ugh! The beastly little cub! I wonder, though, if Mae's disgust will prove permanent. Hope so.

May 25, 1913 - Sunday

25 - Started for Mrs. Hayden's (friend and once school-chum of Muz's) right after breakfast and stayed till about nine o'clock at night. (As I forgot to mention, we'd been previously invited to do same). His name is Haskell, and he has a cat named Pit. It is short however, for Pitmarken. We had a very nice time. After dinner, we went to Rainbow Park. I felt rather sick, coming home on the car. The machinery of the old thing chugged and throbbed till I thought I'd die. But I didn't.

May 24, 1913 - Saturday

24 - Did not go to Mr. Logan to-day. It did seem good to have a Saturday off for a change. Saw quite a good deal of Mae to-day. Of course, I'm as completely under her spell as ever, as I might have known I would be if she bothered enough about it to get me there. I went up to her room (which, in the first place, I shouldn't have done) and she showed mea  lot of Dan's diary (about kissing her and all that) which, it being incriminating evidence, she'd been brave enough to purloin. It was very melodramatic in most parts, rather pathetic in others, while parts were pretty revolting. Through the whole ran a view of laughably unconscious and artless egotism. It was a rather classy bit of literature, on the whole, and will make quite a good "Trophy of the Chase", as which, I understand, Mae means to preserve it. Went out in the yard afterwards, and sat there with Mae.

Saw Harriet afterwards. She was just starting for the circus and asked me to go (more, I suspect, as the easiest and most humane way of disposing of me than for any other reason). I refused however on plea of a headache, a real one, by-the-way. Stayed after she'd gone and read awhile. Please, dear (even if uninvited) reader, don't mistake me. Harry was the soul of affability and sweetness. I guess I just think she did not hanker, like the "hart thirsteth after the water-brook", for my sweet society, because I'm getting chronically acid. I think I must be an embryo old. But nobody really does seem to "hanker" any more.

To return to more pleasant subjects, I made penuche for Mabel and, while it was cooling on the back porch, Dan, in the artless playfulness and humor of his nature, poured some medicine on it. However, it did no harm as, the candy having already hardened before Donnie's pleasant little joke, I just poured off the medicine and ran the cold water on the candy. Thus do the "best laid plans of mice and men (and playful lads) off gang aglee." Dan (for reasons best known to himself) nobly refused a share of the candy, when Mabel offered it. Went home with Mae as I'd no umbrella myself.

May 12, 1913 - Monday

Mr. Morse came in to-day and announced that the school will move to Ann St. the first of June. The quarters there will be much roomier. Also, (Mr. M. forgot to cite this important advantage, strange as such an omission may seem) it will be nearer for me.

Mae is obeying her dad (as, of course, is right and proper) so I did not see her to-night. Stayed with Mrs. Mahoney and read. She is an awful dear! I like her ever so much, and I think she likes me.

May 10, 1913 - Saturday

10 - Was right in regard to "Daddy's" orders to Mae. She told me so when I asked her point-blank. I'm really rather flattered that I'm considered such a pernicious influence. Next to, or perhaps before, being a really classy sky-piloting, pointing-to-the-better-way young person, I'd like to be a temptress. I've always cherished a sneaking ambition to be a villainess. In melodrama, anyway, they always seem so happy-go-lucky while the heroine worries and, like the butcher, "takes life seriously."

Posed for Mr. Logan to-day. He has finished his "tennis Girl", entirely to his dissatisfaction, and did a profile of me to-day. Somehow, my Napoleonic nose adapteth itself not to profile sketches. I is anything but retrousee (spelt right?) He gave me $2 of the $4 he owes me and says he'll give me the other $2 next time, so all's well.

May 9, 1913 - Friday

9 - It was fearfully hot to-day. On the other hand, Mae was quite cool. Hardly answered when I spoke. I suppose she has her orders from her daddy dear. Just to try her, I asked her two different times to come over to my room, and she answered that she had to study. Oh well, who cares? And Echo answers, "Not I."

May 6, 1913 - Tuesday

6 - Went to Library after school. Got a letter from Bonnie and answered it. Wrote to Bunny (May Coye) also.

May 5, 1913 - Monday

5 - Mr. Logan did not give me my money Sat. P.M. or to-day, nor did he say anything about it. Am getting nervous. Saw Howard Dibble to-day. Took H.C. her racket, which I'd borrowed this A.M. Was Prussian Blue for awhile, but finally faded to turquoise.

May 2, 1913 - Friday

2 - Mae came over to No. 3 after I got back from school. After supper Mae and Mr. Rice sat on the front steps and gazed at the moon. Felt rather de trop, so played with Mabel. Gee, I do wish I had a beau, Darn it! Not any beau, but a certain one. Poor fool, can't you do anything but talk drivel? (Above is addressed to myself, dear reader, but is applicable to you, probably)

May 1, 1913 - Thursday

1 - Posed after school. Had taken H.C. her racket yesterday, so had to borrow Mae's which, of course, I forgot and left at the studio.

April 27, 1913 - Sunday

27 - Muz let me off from school, and I posed for Mr. Logan all day and got $2, which I spent, with $.53 more, on a silk shirt waist.

April 26, 1913 - Saturday

26 - Posed for Mr. Logan. Got a back-ache and a dollar. Wanted to spend part of the latter with Mae, but she had made candy with Val this P.M. so wouldn't.

April 25, 1913 - Friday

25 - Mr. Logan (my once drawing teacher) sent me a note asking me to come and pose for him to-morrow as a "Tennis Girl" which is funny considering that I abhor tennis. I can't see any fun in hopping around a hot, dusty court after a dinky little ball. I tried it last summer, which may account for my entire disillusionment.

April 20, 1913 - Sunday

20 - Muz let me off from Sunday School, but Val Wright came over after Mae, so I went home.

April 19, 1913 - Saturday

19 - Stayed out doors with Mae all day. Got out the kitten, too. Mae owned up this evening that Dan had told her the incident of the note the day after it occurred, and in front of the Yip Tribe, too. Has no proper shame at all, evidently; but who could expect it in Dan? Proper pride generally accompanies proper courtesy, so its no wonder that it is utterly lacking in him.

Mae stayed with me till 9.30.

April 18, 1913 - Friday

18 - There was another demonstration (this time of speed in type-writing) at Morse's this P.M. The performer was absurdly young and rosy.

April 17, 1913 - Thursday

17 - Went to Harriet's after supper. Read and made fudge. Went to Mae's at 8.30 and stayed till 11. Went home and wrote to Bonnie. Felt "Pit-iful" and (metaphorically speaking) wept out my troubles into Mae's sympathetic ear. She is a dear. She says Bonnie is becoming stuck on Don. Oh, dear, that takes away the last prop from my poor conscience, for I excused myself for wanting Don on the grounds that she didn't. Well, it doesn't do her any harm, as I can't have him anyway.

Got a lecture from Miss Sherman who is incensed at a sentence on my paper reading "When I die, I shall bequeath my pencil to Miss Sherman." She seems to suspect me of unseemly levity. Alas!

Told Mae about the Note Incident (April 6), as she seemed to think it awfully petty and childish for me to hold out when Dan seems to be trying to be more friendly, as he is now. I only hope he does try to "make up", the insulting little brat. I'd show him a thing or two! But no such luck. He knows better than  to give me a chance like that. I don't think I'd do the very thing I consider so rude in him, but the reconciliation would not be any too cordial, on my side at least.

April 15, 1913 - Tuesday

15 - Washed my hair after school. Mae came over and helped a lot. We sat in the parlor after supper till 9.30. I wonder, if I did "have" Don, would it be less nice than I've imagined it. Perhaps I'm better off as I am. I do know that if Don didn't live up to my dreams, I'd lose all material for said dreams. I would feel so horribly lost without any ideal, and of course an ideal has to have some foundation on some one you know. For all I know, he may not be able to make love at all nicely. "Better hunger than satiety", you know, and it's rather nice to have something to "hunger" about, or for. Such philosophy is very consoling, though rather hackneyed. I might as well be a philosopher as some other brand of dub, if it helps me any.

April 14, 1913 - Monday

14 - We were let out of school to-day at 2 because of J. P. Morgan's funeral, which, by the way, I did not attend. Bonnie left today and I was awfully sorry. She's lots of fun, and I do wish she could stay longer. Pit had made a date with her for the "Empire", for to-day but 'phoned he had to practice base ball. I'm crazy about Bonnie, but I do hope it is a sign that Don is no longer so, that he let base ball hinder his seeing her. I guess he is though. It's mean of me to even wish he weren't, but Bonnie is not at all in love with him.

Mae and I went to her rooms but it seemed awfully lonely without Bonnie, somehow. By the way, Yap is living up to his reputation for "speed". He held Mae's hand the other day, and though that's not in itself so speedy, he may get more so. I don't care, anyhow; Don is all I want __ and is, among other things too numerous to mention, what I can't have.

---

Information about J.P. Morgan can be found here. Information on his funeral can be found here.

April 13, 1913 - Sunday

13 - Went to Mae's before breakfast, but this time she and Bonnie were up; so I just ate some of the toffee we made last night, at which Bonnie and Mae united in showing me the door. Stayed at Mahoney's after breakfast and read Sunday papers. Went to Sunday School in P.M. After Sunday School, I went to Mae's but she and Bonnie were out. Mae came in a little while afterwards and said Pit was here (or at Mahoney's) with Bonnie who wanted us to come over. Of course I went and, equally of course, was made perfectly miserable by the fact that Don really is crazy about Bonnie, instead of it's being Mae's imagination, as I was hoping against hope. However, he was very nice and jolly, as always, and I may see him perhaps soon again. Of course, I'll only be second fiddle, if that, but I don't care. It will be something to see him occasionally.

Bonnie started a diary today. Pit called for Bonnie again, this evening but Mae and I stayed at her room, while B. went over to entertain him. Learning later, when B. came back, that Dan had hung around all the while. Of course, it's his house, but you might think he'd make himself scarce ___ if you didn't know Dan. Went home ) and wept ) at 930. Well, I've had what I've been wishing for these last six months. I've seen Pit. I ought to be satisfied.  Bonnie taught me a classy little ditty entitled "There was a Sentimental Cuss."

April 12, 1913 - Saturday

12 - Went to Mae's before breakfast and rooted Bonnie and Mae out of bed. We all went up & called on Mrs. Pit but did not stay, as she had a pupil. Went to the Empire in the afternoon and made almond toffee at night. I got the toffee recipe mixed with another and so we put candied pineapple in it, too; but it was an improvement. We had a grand old spree! Meeting adjourned at a quarter of ten. Bonnie is packs of fin. Awfully attractive too, tough not exactly pretty. I can see how Don fell head over heels in love with her. Oh dear, I wish I knew how she did it.

April 11, 1913 - Friday

11 - Saw my "hated rival", Bonnie Babcock, this afternoon at Mae's, where she's staying over Sunday, and I like her very much. She, Mae, and I all went up to another girl's in the pouring rain. While there, we met a youth, George Newton. Got home at nearly 10. Anticipate good time with Bonnie. We called, (or rather Mae did) up Pit on the telephone, as Bonnie wanted to see him, but he and his mother were both out. However, I may see him before Bonnie goes. Hope so, anyway, even if he does devote all his time to Bonnie.

April 10, 1913 - Thursday

10 - We had no school this A.M. A man took all morning demonstrating the "Dictograph", which is some classy machine. However, its net cost, as Miss Sherman would say, is $100. No, Allyce dear, I have not omitted a decimal point. It is 100 good, healthy, lively, coy young iron men - plunks, in short.

Met Mae on my way from school and walked back with her. After supper, Chesty (short for Chesterfield, not slang for arrogant) being out, Mae and I swiped his most prized and priceless possession, to whit. his diary. Moreover, we read it. Dan has it bad on the Mae question, but, then, so have I. She is an utter peach, and shamelessly and brazenly pretty. If I had a chance of such looks, I wouldn't hog them all to myself. Her nature is likewise very very sweet. In short, she is class!

We couldn't keep the choice volume long as we were shaking in our little boots (picture of boot).

Notwithstanding, I saw some rather, well - strong remarks about myself. Chesty can knock when he goes to do it, not being hampered by the trifles generally known as good breeding, gallantry, courtesy, etc. Mem: when he's mad, he always refers to me in his diary as "Miss James", those times being the only periods when he exhibits any respect whatever for me.

April 7, 1913 - Monday

7 - Left a note of apology for Dan this morning. This noon when I saw him, I asked, "Well, Dan is it a truce?" to which the dear youth, who has constantly demonstrated his ability to out-Chesterfield Chesterfield, replied with all his arless candor & simplicity, "No." You'd really think Dan didn't have a long life before him which he can, and doubtless will, devote to the perfecting of his really astounding talent, nay, genius for boorishness, from the way he seizes each and every opportunity to parade same. It seems really ludicrous now I think it over, but I really almost expected Dan to be polite; and I've known him for about a year now, too.

Saw Yep after supper. He refused to play cards with the other men and talked to Mae and me until 9.15. He's awfully interesting. I like him better than Yap because he does not show his contempt for me, as aroused by my insufficient age, as plainly as Yap does, though both are as polite as ___ well, as polite as Dan isn't, and that's a good lot.

Have skewered my golden (?) locks up on top of my dome now, and wear a ribbon around, pirate style. See illustration on opposite page for a rival of "Solomon in all his glory."

I think from something Mae said, that Chesterfield II told her about the incident of the note. If she comes right out about it, I'll see if I can't do a little high class stringing on my own account. He has no proof, as I recaptured the note from the parlor mantel, where he'd flung it, torn in four pieces. Dan's sense of the melodramatic values is second only to his overwhelming courtesy. Cheer up, he doesn't get the chance of insulting me twice, by Jinks.

---

The note was stuck inside the diary. It reads: 

Dear Nut:
Am sorry I slapped you, so please be sociable once more, again.
Yours, as ever,
The Goat
P.S. Why don't you ever take your turn patching up our numerous scraps?
M.

On the reverse:

D. H. Mahoney

Exhibit A 

April 6, 1913 - Sunday

6 - Stayed at Mahoney's with Mae this A.M. Dan was positively rude to Mae, and, I guess, would have been to me if we were on speaking terms. Muz let me off from Sunday School.

April 5, 1913 - Saturday

5 - Chrissy-bird had a stunning time this morning. He flew against the window and then flopped down and "took the count". For about 15 min. I thought he was dying, but he recovered after all.

Art class held its last session today. I took home my best work when I went. Mae and I made maple-sugar candy with different quantities of ingredients and it was fine. Saved some for Muz. Muz did not come home to supper as she had too short a dinner hour so I brought her home some sandwiches.

April 4, 1913 - Friday

4 - Saw Mrs. Pit. on my way home from school.

April 3, 1913 - Thursday

3 - H.H.C. called me up this evening and asked me to go to her house. I strongly suspicion she only wanted me to draw a certain map for her but she couldn't find the paper. Stayed till nine when Mrs. Cook asked me to mail her letters so I had to go, to get them off on time. Mrs. Cook always has letters for me to mail before the 9 o'clock collection, when I go to her house.

Went to Mae's after I'd been to Harriet's and stayed till 10 when her Dad came into the next room, so I skipped for home like the mos' shocking guilty wretch I am. The Nut is still mad. I don't expect him to apologize, as he expects me, but if he cares a hang for my friendship he'll make the first advances towards a reconciliation. It's only fair, as I apologized most humbly last time we were mad.

Was very sick when I reached home, some sarsaparilla given to me by Harriet having proved the proverbial "last straw."

April 2, 1913 - Wednesday

2 - Feel better today than last night, and see how I helped out the impression this book, as a whole, gives so well ___ that I'm a nut. I feel better for getting all that bitterness of my mind and I know now that Don was a sweet lad for clearing out before I made a fool of myself, as I surely would have sooner or later; Harriet a nice child for shaking me so decently and politely; the Nut only human to resent being slapped (and myself singularly unladylike to slap him); and Mae a girl who, like anyone else, gets sick of always seeing the same person especially when said person is mushier than mush.

Poor Mae gets a little too much mush, I guess, now that Dan and I are both at it. Perhaps too much is as bad as, or worse than, not enough, from which latter affliction I am suffering. I certainly do wish someone (masculine gender preferred.) would be awfully mushy to me. It isn't self-respecting to wish that but __ "A little mush, now, and then, is relished by the best of women" to misquote a well-known author (I disremember his name but I can throw a bluff that I know who said it)

To resume, mush is awfully comforting at times, though there are also times when it sickens you. The poor males must think it's rather queer when their ladies fair turn from them suddenly and refuse with abhorrence what they really liked before, but the L. F.s can't help it, though it's hard for the Ms. to tell just when to mush and when not. (Such philosophy!)

Went down to the Library with Mae, this evening.

April 1, 1913 - Tuesday

1 - Got "fooled" once. Went home right after school, got all dressed for supper and went to Mae's. Only stayed there for about 10 minutes on account of my dislike of being found there by her dad. After supper, Mae very markedly preferred Dan's society to mine so I went home. Oh, d___n, I'm so lonely. Mae is just too sweet for anything to Dan now, and she just about had to kick me out I guess. Thick!!!

Gosh, it's too bad I can't take a hint once in a while, but no; I have to wait till I get a kick. I wish I were about 100 miles from here, or dead. I haven't one single love lorn friend left, not that any friend (?) I ever did have ever cared a damn for me as soon as he or she could get anyone else. I'm just used to fill in there spare time when they want to be amused, and, as soon as any one else is handy, - well I'm all but told in so many words where I can go, and where I can go is no comfy summer resort, If you get me.

First Don beat a hasty retreat (Perhaps he thought I'd take advantage of it's being Leap Year) Then Harriet gracefully melted into the landscape and tactfully withdrew. After that Dan found some one else and slammed off with the ease, grace, tact and savoir faire for which he is famous, and now it's Mae. I guess I'm well rid of the whole bunch, if fact, I know I am but ___ it hurts just as much for all that. I felt so lonely to night I almost apologized to that little cub; but, thank goodness, I didn't. At least I'm not as devoid of all pride as to go hiking after the falling down on my knees at every other step to beg them to forgive me.

Apr. 1. (and always)

I'm a fool, and thick, and a complete, all-around, three-ply, 200 hp., triple plated Dub, but I'm not the goat on the same topic more than once, if I can help it. Don is the only one I care two cents for and I wouldn't except him if I wasnt such a complete ass. Of course, it stings pretty much to see everyone get sick of me, but I suppose they can't help it. I'm pretty sick of myself.

Anyway, I'm thankful Don was so decent about it, and Harriet. Don didn't have to throw me out and H. only had to drop a few mild hints. Well, I've got it out of my system now, so I'll stop; but I guess I know better now about a few things than before. This training is probably awfully good for dicipline, but I never did think much of diciplinary things; They're apt to leave a pretty bad taste in your mouth. I'd better stop now, as I'm too sore to look at things in a very lenient light.

---

When impassioned, Marjorie sometimes slips in her word choices, punctuation, and spelling. I believe all errors in the above belong to the author, not the transcriber.

March 31, 1913 - Monday

31 - Went to Hill's after school and tried on some dresses. Mrs. Mahoney and I told each other all our troubles this evening in regard to Mr. Dunbar. Unanimous vote: He is too blame rude. Stayed with Mae till nine.

March 30, 1913 - Sunday

30 - Was terribly wicked. Played S.S. Hooky. Dan went out early in the afternoon and later Mae had to go to Vallette's. I read all P.M. After supper, I went into the parlor and hunched myself into the most dejected attitude possible in the morris chair, hoping, when Dan came in, my evident broken heartedness would move that callous lad to "make up." It didn't, though. Perhaps he didn't draw the right conclusion as to my shamelessly faked gloom (i.e. that I felt weepy because he was mad) or else he is awfully heartless, for I know I can fake grief rather well; anyway he unconcernedly sat down and began to play the piano. Anyway, I'm not going to apologize this time! I was the goat last time we scrapped and I'll be equal parts of hanged and doggoned if I'll do it again. All I did this time was to slap him (I can't count the times he's slapped me) but the dear lad tells Mae that what he objects to is that I "did it in anger." It didn't hurt any more for all that I guess, than some of his playful little love taps and the anger makes it more excusable.

March 29, 1913 - Saturday

29 - Went to Art Class. Mr. Logan again asked me if I'd pose for the class some time. Said he'd tell me when. Went to the library with Mae in the evening. Had an awful time getting the books I wanted. Mae came home with me and we read till eleven, when Muz came home.

March 28, 1913 - Friday

28 - Got up rather early to-day to get my presents. I received;

1 shirt waist             _ from Muz & Mrs. M.
1/2 dollar                 _    "       "
2 pr. stockings         _    "      "
2 neck bows            _    " Mae & Muz
1 hair ribbon            _    " Muz
$3 (squandered on a striped dress skirt)
                                _ from Grandma
1 lacquered Jap box _    " Dad
1 absent-treatment weeping fit
                                _ from Don
Muz let me off from school in the afternoon. Mae and I made penuche.

March 27, 1913 - Thursday

27 - Still pouring and blowing like a hurricane. Saw Mae (also Dan) at lunch. Dan seems to be getting out of his sulks somewhat, but I shan't make the first move this time. Waded home after school. Mae came in. Bu the way, the Gum Fiend's at it again. Stayed at Mahoney's after supper and read as Dan was out. Mae went home. I guess, like everyone who knows me long, she's rather tired, by now, of my charming society. They all get it. Perhaps one reason is I never have more than one friend at a time, and that one is so sick of me by the time I get another that she, or he can't bear the sight of me. I feel rather ultra-marine. Indigo is too bright to use as a simile for my present mood.

March 26, 1913 - Wednesday

26 - It rained a lot today. Mae arranged to meet me at the library at four. I waited till nearly half past and then went home. She came in a little while later. She'd gone down with Dan to whom she was being-nice so she "can squelch him better afterwards." He'd raised a blister on her lip by his too-much fervor. I always did fall for those "let's -combine-and-squelch-him" rackets, and then my squelching partner "makes up" with the victim and I'm left out in the cold. At Boarding school it was even worse, as the S.P. generally espoused the V.'s cause and got mad at me. I certainly am the goat this time, as always.

Mae invited me to spend the night with her, as her stern parent was starting for Washington. Refused at first but finally gave in though I had the strongest kind of a presentiment it was only a ruse to get Mae to do something rash and get caught. Sure enough, he came back at about 11. As my presentiment had prevent my undressing and had driven me into Mae's room, I slid out undetected [I hope]. It was raining cats and dogs, I had forgotten my rubbers & I had no umbrella. The library books I carried stained the front of my coat a lovely pink which looked as if I'd split my rouge (not that I use it). Roused Muz up and she let me in.

March 25, 1913 - Tuesday

25 - Went to Mae's after school and washed my hair. Had a most aweful scrap with the Nut in the evening. He took my diary and I slapped him good and hard. He is the most exasperating thing! For a wonder, he didn't slap back. Just turned and stalked away. I suppose he thought his kingly wrath would punish me more. Mae came home with me, after Dan had tried to see how rude he could be, by throwing my coat down beside me and leaving the room when I came in, and she stayed till about nine. I loaned her "Pride and Prejudice".

Yap's first name is Billy and Yep's, Frank. They played last night for awhile. I like them both awfully.

March 24, 1913 - Monday

24 - Was dog tired to-day and got along not any too well at school. Had my first business letter dictated to me. Wore the silver chain Muz gave me yesterday. Saw the Yip tribe after supper and they were again entertaining. Yap was more so to me. He is a sweet youth when he thaws out. Went to the Empire after school with Val Wright and Mae. Went for a four mile stroll with Mae after supper (at about 8.30, when the Yip tribe had withdrawn). Got home at ten. Muzzy was asleep so I took the diary down stairs and wrote it up for the last three days. Jingo, but I'm dead-tired.

Mae tells me, by the way, that Bonnie's crooking of her finger (See Feb. 25) worked to perfection (so I must give up all hope of ever winning Pit). Don't know that I care so very much anyway - at least not now. You see, there's the Yep and the Yap; but I'd rather _____ Oh slush, lov-ally slush! I'll just forget it and begin a new canto, book or chapter of this book dedicated to the Yip Tribe.

---

Bonnie crooking her finger on February 25, 1912.

March 23, 1913 - Sunday

"Got this from Dan. Easter, 1913."

23 - Stayed at the H. of M. all A.M. and at 12.30 went home to dress. Brought Muz some of our sea foam. Mae and Dan came home with me and Mae came up while Dan waited below for me to dress. I said I'd be down in 5 min. and Dan wanted to know if that meant my 5 minutes or the clock's. I guess it was mine, as it turned out to be 25 and Dan left, leaving a note to say he must do his practicing. Impart it to the diminutive denizens of the deep, Daniel.

Went to S.S. We went up to the church and Miss Downs got me to tote the banner but I failed to bit on the job of carrying our class offering up to the alar. I did that cute little stunt last Easter and am so near-sighted that I couldn't find my class again, though Miss Downs was wildly bechoning. My, I was fussed; so I let Lillie do it this time. Service was fine and there were lots of lilies & such-like that smell dandy.

 

Went to Mahoney's after and found Mae but not Dan there. Relations are strained, as Mae won't let Daniel kiss her any more. Dan came back and I hid behind Mae's chair and then bobbed up at him. He went for me, and in speedily rising, I unhinged the shutters which came clattering down about my devoted ben at the same time that Mae's chair flopped gracefully into my lap, Mae and all. It was an immense leather affair, too, and no feather weight. We made so much noise that Mrs. M. came forth and ordered me off. Saw the Yip tribe (the Y.P.s_ this evening. Mr. A. is Y.A.P. or Yap (Young American Presumptuous) and Mr. L. is Yep (Young English Presumptuous) between Mae and me. Yep was awfully entertaining and Yap was, too, but he entertained Miss Johnston in whom we have a hated rival. Anyway, they both were lovely. They played cards and piano, sang, and talked until 7.45 and there withdrew. Mae and I think Dan is getting too cocky so are uniting in squelching him; so we went when the Yip Tribe did. Dan trotted after us and told us we'd forgotten something - him, n such a confident way that we hated to do it, but we did say we were just going to Mae's. We went for a walk instead. Mae came home with me and stayed awhile, after.

March 22, 1913 - Saturday

22 - Went to Art Class but did not accomplish very much as I felt anything but workative. Met Howard Dibble on my way down though and he gave me a lift in the machine. After lunch Mae and I made (or rather, tried to make) maple cream. It set me back fifty whole cents and came out wrong. The fool recipe called for 2, no, 1 1/2 cups of butter and only one of maple sugar. The resulting mess was beyond any but profane description. Mae, being rich to the tune of $.25, we made sea foam instead and that was all right.

March 21, 1913 - Friday

21 - Did nothing with all my might all day. Mae and I had a duel with pillows in the afternoon but, as we had it in the yard, our audience got so numerous that we modestly withdrew. Besides it was raining.

Saw the Y.P. (Mae's name for Mr. L. and Mr. A., meaning Young Presumptiouses) at supper. I like Mr. Lloyd much better than Mr. Anderson who won't pay the least attention to Mae or myself but condescends to address a remark of the most sarcastic nature to the Nut (Dan) every once and so often. He very obviously regards Mae and me (especially me) as babes too insignificant to try his charms on. Too bad! He has awfully nice hair and a rather nice lot of manners, too, and I might have got a crush on him.

I wanted so to see Don again tonight that I wept, poor fool. Too bad I haven't enough proper pride to get unstuck on anyone who has so politely but firmly shown me that I'm no one as far as he's concerned. But I do want him so! I have not any pride, I guess, as I'd do almost anything to have relations on their former friendly footing.

March 20, 1913 - Thursday

20 - Last day of school for this week as we have tomorrow off.

March 19, 1913 - Wednesday

19 - Had breakfast with Mae, and walked as far as the High School with her. She says Dan told her that Mr. A. was a very "fast" youth. However, as Mae so truly remarked "The fast ones are much more fun than the slow ones if you only can _____" Yes, but can I? Won't he regard me as a mere infant? However, Mae and I are the only available damsels at Mahoney's so perhaps ____. I'm all right if they (Messrs. L. and A.) don't both get stuck on Mae. She's two years older than I, besides being ever and ever so much prettier.

March 18, 1913 - Tuesday

18 - Mae came quite late to breakfast. She says that, after I went, she and Dan went over to her rooms and camped down in her dad's room, where they were "diskivered" by that cross, not to say chronically irate parent. Result (after Dan's departure) ___ a storm, in which the I.P. accused Mae of unconventionality in entertaining Dan unchaperoned. I don't see why the deuce it's so much worse to be alone with him over there than in the Mahoney parlor, but it seems it is. Truly, the ways and rules governing us are hair-splitting. (And some of them are side-splitting.)

Went to the Library after school and got two books, "Wild Animals I Have Known" and "Don-a-Dreams", the latter because of its suggestive tittle. I am a dub. I think I shall write a masterpiece entitled "Nuts I have Known" and head the list with Marjorie W. James N. N. A. (Nuttiest Nut of All). I don't believe I have a speck of self respect, or I wouldn't be such an ass, even in private. And about a boy who doesn't care two, or even one and a half, straws about me. I aught to be so ashamed of myself that I'd turn ripe-tomato-color instead of the sickly yellow I am.

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"Wild Animals I Have Known" is a fiction collection from 1898 by Ernest Thompson Seton. Read the wiki or read it online at Project Gutenburg.
"Don-a-Dreams: A Story of Love and Youth" was written in 1906 by Harvey O'Higgins. Read online at the Internet Archive.

March 17, 1913 - Monday

17 - Wore my green ribbons, of course. Saw Mr. Lloyd and Mr. Anderson at supper. Mr. A. is very good-looking, so I guess I shall get smitten with him, if possible. (I am rather a sickening little fool, am I not?) As I was going home i heard, metaphorically speaking, cries of anguish coming from the kitchen and, my curiosity arising, as I detected, in the Jeremiad which Mabel was performing, the magic word, "Fudge", I went in. There stood Mabel, almost weeping because Edna had given her a recipé for Fudge, which told her to "take it from the fire when done", but had neglected to tell her how to tell when it was "done"; so the poor kid was stranded in the middle of a fudge spree and likely to remain in the middle indefinitely. Yes, Guinevere, of course I rescued the maiden in distress, receiving a piece of the rescued fudge. Mrs. M. came out afterwards and pressed upon me a dime probably for my help to Mabel, as I can think of nothing else meritorious that I've done lately. She would not take "no" for an answer, as I knew beforehand, or I would not have offered her that virtuous reply, so I'm in a dime. Went home a trifle after curfew, to Mae's and Dan's rather too evident relief.

March 16, 1913 - Sunday

16 - There are two new men at our table. As they are blond and young, I may be able to develop a crush on one of them and so shake mine on Don. They're both better looking, by far, than he. I don't know though, that I'd be much better off if I did follow out the preceding plan, as they'd probably regard me as an awful kid. I think I'll put my hair up when I'm sixteen (28" of this month) but still compromise by using a ribbon at the back. Mae acts sort of queer. Maybe it's too much "Sea Foam". Dan kissed her again today. Dan acted like a perfect clown to-day, by the way. I do hate to see a boy of nearly 17, and very large for his age, at that, capering around a room and making a fool of himself. Not that that's so very hard in Dan's case. I don't care really, tough, how he acts if only (here is the real grievance) he would not be continually pushing me around when I am tired and want to be quiet. I feel rather gloomy.

March 15, 1913 - Saturday

15 - Went to Art Class and did the bally torse of the blooming Appolo B. Went to the library and got two books. Stayed at Mae's this P.M. and made "Sea Foam". It turned out dandy.

Went to Mahoney's too late for supper to get my own seat, so took the one next to Mae, at her Dad's table. A lady at ours got up the next mnute, though, so I took her seat instead. Lucky I did, for just then Mae's dad came in and I don't want him to see us to-gether. Stayed at Mahoney's till 845 or 915, I forget which and then Mae came and took me over to her room where I stayed till 10. Am on the track of my long-lost rubbers. Mae took them by mistake, wore them to Polly's and left them there. She'd forgotten all about it till Polly telephones and said she's left her rubbers.

As I was sitting in Mahoney's parlor last evening waiting for Mae, someone rang the door bell, and, when kitty opened the door, said, "Hello, Kitty" in a voice so nearly like Don's that my heart beat all records for the standing high jump. My, but it did pound! But no such luck! Of course, it wasn't Don, but I didn't really know how much I had really hoped it would be he, till I heard the man go upstairs. I was never quite so disappointed in ages. Not, however, that I thought it could be he, but how I did hope! Had better give up hoping if possible. No chance of my ever seeing him again, I guess.

March 14, 1913 - Friday

14 - It rained all day, nearly, so I didn't go to school; Friday, too! I certainly am in luck. Muz was a darling to let me off.

March 13, 1913 - Thursday

13 - Went to the library after school. On the way, I met Christine Johnsen who went with me. She goes to Business School too, but not to Morse's. I changed "Stover at Yale" for "Kim" and got "S, at Y." on Dan's card for him as he'd asked me to. Mae came over this P.M.

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"Stover at Yale" was written in 1912 by Owen Johnson and tells about undergraduate life at Yale at the turn of the century. More information at wikipedia, or download the pdf at Classicly.

"Kim" was written in 1901 by Rudyard Kipling. More information at wikipedia. You can read a plain-text version at Project Gutenberg or read scanned, illustrated versions at the Internet Archive.

March 12, 1913 - Wednesday

12 - Mae came over this P.M. But, wait; in the morning I was near-late to school anyway and, at Asylum Place I met Harriet's ki-yis who insisted on following me down to the railway station. When we got that far, all efforts to halt them proving of no avail, I right-about-faced and took them up the hill again and brought them back to her. I was, of course, awfully late for school, and so, telephones to Muz to ask if I might stay out altogether. Answer _____ "Nay, nay, Pauline", or words to that effect.

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"Nay, Nay, Pauline" is the name of an 1898 song by Emerson Foote Jr and lyrics by Jennings Cox Jr. The sheet-music can be found at the New York Digital Library.

March 11, 1913 - Tuesday

11 - Took aforesaid test and passed. Can't find my rubbers and have a cold. An uncomfy, but not unusual combination. Stayed at Mahoney's after supper but Mae was grouchy and went home. Not so Daniel. He was once again indecorous, though this time I did not invite it in the least. I wish he wouldn't unless I do seem to invite it, but he pays no attention when I ask him not to, probably thinks it maidenly coyness.  I rather feel, though I suppose it's silly and all that, as if I ought to save any privileges of that kind for a boy I'll really love, as if I'd be sorry if I didn't. But I guess I'll try to chuck all that rot.

Dan wants said privileges (though he's to smitten at present) and Don, wo whom I'd be willing to give them freely, doesn't. So why worry? Only I guess I'll save them (the S.P.s) for a possible ideal, and not chuck them away for a boy I care absolutely nothing about. I almost think there's more in having a really good "Dream Man" than 20 good-enough-but-not-quite-my-ideal beans. Not that I have one however, let alone twenty. Went home at ten. I suppose anyone reading that would think that I really liked Dan's actions. Well, a girl learns to take substitutes when she can't get just what she wants, and to make the best of them. I used to dream of having a boy really in love with me, as Dan was last summer, but now I know that any boy won't do. It's got to be the one. Yes, Therese, I do think I've spun enough drivel for one evening, so I guess I'll go to bed.

March 10, 1913 - Monday

10 - School again! Took a test and failed. Alas! I have to retake it tomorrow.

March 9, 1913 - Sunday

9 - Went to Sunday School and afterwards to the H. of M. Mrs. Mahoney, however, dropped a rather pointed and, at the same time, broad hint that my room was decidedly to be preferred to my society. Said hint including Mae, we went to her room for the rest of P.M. In the evening Dan had an awful headache and, as I smoothed his fevered brow with ice-water, I am by now, probably credited with a hopeless passion for the poor lad. Oh, well! Anything to get folks off the right track.

March 8, 1913 - Saturday

8 - Went to Mr. Logan's with Mae to explain my absences lately. Met Muz at the store and got her to go to the library with me and get me a library card. Went to Poli's with Harriet, Helen P., and Milly. After Poli's I went to Mahoney's and, on the way there, met the Son and Heir "as large as life, and twice as natural". He was on his way to the Drug Store, and came back shortly with some candy. Tried my wiles (?) and succeeded. He even got a trifle too violent. Having proved that I can still make him misbehave, I shall reform. I am afraid I'm getting awfully wicked and I really don't want to.

Dan is reading Balzac and I sampled it. Of all the trash I ever saw, it is the very trashiest. Mae went down town "for just a little while" at 8 o'clock. I went home at 10, she not having yet returned.

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You can read about Honoré de Balzac on wikipedia.

March 7, 1913 - Friday

7 - "Came into" a quarter which I promptly invested in materials for penuche. Mae came over while I made it, and I illustrated her diary, reading part of it.

Class! Got a scare about Chriss. Emma thought he needed fresh air so opened all 3 windows, he hanging in one of them. Muz luckily rescued him in time. Hope Emma doesn't take it into her head to bring up a cat to keep Chrissy company when he's lonely, or feed him dill pickle.

Again tried to lure Daniel to his destruction and again failed, though it may be because Mae was present. Although I try to make Dan kiss me, I know I'm not in love with him as the mere imagination of Donald's doing that deed is twice as thrilling as Dan's doing it. The thought of it gives me the most delightful tickly feeling up and down my spine. HOwever, the thought is as far as I'll ever get. But Dan gets on my nerves! It isn't so much that I want him to kiss me as that I want to be able to make him do it, if the whim takes me. He has evidently reformed since he became stuck on Mae.

The Gum Fiend (See Feb. 19.) has returned to her old tricks. I left a notice saying that if she "must fix my desk so that I couldn't open it, to please use a padlock as I would not have to scrape it off when I succeeded in forcing it." That biting sarcasm should wither her.

March 6, 1913 - Thursday

6 - Nothing doing till after supper, when I tried to get Dan to be "dastardly" - and failed. My word! Don't yuh know, the bally lad gets int'rest'in' as he becomes harder!

March 5, 1913 - Wednesday

5 - Went to the Lincolns' to dinner to night instead of going to Harriet's. Of course, I had no definite engagement with Harry so I called her up and told her I couldn't come.

March 4, 1913 - Tuesday

4 - Nothing particular doing all day.

March 3, 1913 - Monday

3 - Did fairly well at school. Went to Mae's after school, and illustrated her diary where that with pictures of Dan serenading her and her juggling hearts and spurning Dan's proffered affection. He's just about crazy over her. He walked home with me and I asked him why he didn't stick Mae's feet in my ears Sunday, as well as wrapping her neck around my eyes. The gallant youth replied that he was afraid they'd get lost. I bluffed him too well tonight. Pretended I'd read his diary lately and he got in one of his horrid sarcastic moods. Saw Harriet to-day and she asked me to come over Wednesday.

Went to Empire with Miss Burdett. Better pictures than last Friday. Feel rather blue. Suppose I shall continue to do so every once in so often until I see Don. Isn't it _____ to be in love?

March 2, 1913 - Sunday

2 - Brought Muzzy her breakfast in bed as she was dog-tired, poor dear. Went to S.S. and came back, afterward, to Mahoney's Dan tried to blindfold me by pushing my face against Mae's neck while he kissed her but I saw the deed. Stayed at Mahoney's after supper, but felt blue. I wonder if it's Don or just an ideal for which Don (faute de mieux) stands. All I know is that I want either Don, or the ideal pretty blame bad. I haven't seen Don since last October, not even seen him .Wonder if Bonnie's readded him to her collection yet. I suppose so!

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"Faute de mieux" - french expression 'For lack of something better.'

March 1, 1913 - Saturday

1 - Mae did not come to breakfast, so took her some oatmeal. Somehow, we got to talking about Dan and Mae told me that she and he had had a near-scrap owing to his having kissed her. Daniel is surely budding into quite a gay Lothario; but I don't blame him in the above case. The provocation is such that even I, I can't resist her. He has "broken" with Clara. This, then is the meaning of his emotions on the 23rd of last month! Must be great for Clara, after writing him slush for about a year to get a cool bounce like that!

Went to Dr. Little's but wasn't hurt much. Mrs. Monroe said that Stella had been seen wearing specs answering the description of my lost ones, so Ruth and I went to the Retreat, where that light-fingered lady is now employed, to see about it. I was about ready to qualify as a patient at the Retreat, and thought seriously of sending for an ambulance for Ruth, by the time we arrived. It was about 4 miles and my no good done at that, as a necessary Mr. Thompson was absent.

Went to Mae's and stayed till supper time. After supper, she came home with me and I washed my raven locks. She got cold feet and tried to bluff and pretend she'd been stuffing me in regard to Dan, but finially owned up that he has done the dastardly deed several times. Dan believes in quantity, apparently. Until he broke with Clara he'd been kissing two girls and writing the mushiest of love letters to a third. Some record, Danny, but I shan't help to swell the list any more, if I can help it!

February 28, 1913 - Friday

28 - Was in luck to-day. I had to work pretty hard all day (No, Gwendolyn, that was not the lucky part) but got off easy in the matter of homework. It was this way: My teacher, Miss Bartlett is only about 20, and, towards the end of school, she was chatting gaily and making dates with two of the older boys. I went to her and asked what I should do for homework. She replied that I was to "do some word signs or something, anything." Oh joy! What a pipe! And it's Friday too. Peg and Mrs. Lincoln called and took me to the "Empire" with them. Had very good time.

February 27, 1913 - Thursday

27 - Was very wicked to-night; I wanted some excitement so I tried to see how near to the point of being indecorous I could bring Dan and still keep him from being indecorous. I succeeded "not wisely, but too well" for I got him there easily enough by judicious teasing, but couldn't stop him, then. I am glad Mae was not there anyway. Mae sent Dan a note, at breakfast this morning. She put C. Y. F. W. (which means "Consider yourself flirted with) on the back, but, as she made it up, he's not apt to guess it. I wonder if she "considers" him so!

February 26, 1913 - Wednesday

26 - Nothing much doing all day but work. Came home right after school, but at five Mae called me up, and asked me to come over to the House of Mahoney, so I went. After supper Miss Brown came in and announced that she had come to hear Dan play, so he had to, while we all stood around and competed for his goat. Went home with Muz. Was very tired.

February 25, 1913 - Tuesday

25 - Played hookey with Mae. Muz found out, had 2000 fits, and, for a time, family relations were somewhat strained. Mae told me that Bonnie Babcock (me hated rival) washere, or rather there, at mae's house for quite awhile on the 24^th. Also that Bonnie has "changed her mind about Pit," which means, in plain English that she's going to get him crazy about her again. Oh, well! If it's so easy for her as all that I don't think it would do me much good if I did anything about it, which I couldn't anyway. I'm anxious to know if she works it. She's just going to write to him and do the trick that way. Very simple, Watson!

Well, cheer up, it will do me some good, anyhow, as Don will see that my telling about his diary didn't injure him with the object of his affections. I don't feel quite so weepy as I might over this sad, sad news. I have fits of being perfectly crazy about him (Don) but in between whiles I'm fairly sane & normal. This is an "in-between-time" as I had my fits of craziness a few days ago (Feb. 20). Perhaps, when B.B. crooks her finger to Don & he meekly follows her, as she takes it for granted he will, I shall weep. At any rate, I should worry!

February 24, 1913 - Monday

24 - Did not loaf to any extent in school to-day. I worked every minute of the day, and then some! Went to lunch and saw Dan, who has forgotten his grouch. By carefully refraining from asking any questions, I found out that Don also saw me go through by the Cathedral yesterday, so I suppose that he thinks what Dan does, or pretends to, i. e. that I went through just to see Don. Oh, well! Let them think! I don't just know why I did do it, but I certainly had no hope of seeing Donald.

By the way, Ester Wells called me up last night and asked me to help her wait on table at the the Y.W.C.A. to-day. I murmured a shy "Yas", as I really hadn't the crust, nor the necessary inventive ability to refuse again. This is the 3rd time that she's asked me, since I was last there.

Went to the Y. W.C.A. but did not arrive until 6.25. However, it was all right. I met Ester and another girl (Catherine Somebody-or-other) and we began to set the table for some Club that was to dine there that night. I went in and served them (the clubbers). They were so close to-gether that I had to rest the tray on their shoulders each time. We did not do so much, however, as we retired after about half-an-hour to another room and had a gay old time. We had our dinner, and packs of fun, in the room all by our lonesomes. Went home at about 8.30 and found that Muz had brought me some sandwiches and soup from Mahoney's.

February 23, 1913 - Sunday

23 - Stayed at Mahoney's part of A.M., and at Mae's, half. Went to S.S. (Sunday School) in P.M. Told Miss Down I had an important engagement, so wanted to go at 3³⁰. She acquiesced rather doubtfully, and I went to Asylum Ave. and up by the Cathedral. Met Mae coming out of her house and we went to Mahoney's together. Dan was not in, having gone, as Mae told me, to Don's. I hope he did not see me going past Don's house, or he might find food for some teasing, although I just passed quickly through to F. Ave. without more than a look at the Pit. house. Mae and I stayed at Mahoney's about half-an-hour, then I went home. Muz rode up on the car with Don the other day and she says he looks fierce! I wonder, if I saw him again (I haven't for more than three and a half mo.) would I lose my crush on him? (as "Pam" did, in "Pam Decides") Very "morantic", but I've seen Don when there were much better looking boys around, and my ardor has anything but abated; so I guess it's no use trying to shake the crush. Besides, it's rather interesting and gives me food for thought, so I'm not so sure I want to!

Dan acted eccentric, to say the least, tonight. He came in to supper while I was there, replied to my remarks with curt monosyllables ,and finally sprang up from the table and went into the parlor. When I finished supper, I went in and, as he was playing "Goodbye to Summer," I came in without attracting his attention, and sat down. He was breathing so deeply that it sound like sobbing and that, coupled with the facts that he was playing"Goodbye to Summer" and that he heard not long ago that "Clara" was ill leads me to think she must be worse. He finished playing, and, seeing me, asked abruptly how I "Got here". Stifling a desire to tell him I oozed up between the boards of the floor, I said I came in from supper. He then clumped out of the room. Went home with Muz about 5 minutes later, as I hope I know how to take a hint that is literally a kick. Played with Ruth and Norma awhile, till 8³⁰, in fact.

P.S. I found out at supper, by no questions, either that Dan did see me cut through by the Cathedral. So much for luck!

February 22, 1913 - Saturday

22 - Again missed Art School owing to loss of specs. Hooked Dan's diary after breakfast. It was lying on the sewing-machine. All of interest was an intimation that he was stuck on Mae. Knew that, anyhow. He came home while I was locked in with the diary, and probably missed it. I'm in for it, now. It's a wonder Dan was not "smit" sooner. He can't have a girl around long before he is, generally. All's fish, so to speak, that comes to his net, or to whose net he comes.

Later - When I went to lunch all was serene, so I am forced to the amazing conclusion that he doesn't know of my crime or, knowing, cares not. Shades of Georgie! (whose birthday it is, by the way) What luck!

Another "Futurist" Picture Done on Feb. 22.

D.F.M. in a state of victory

and righteous indignation.

Me in a state of coma.

Went to Mae's in afternoon. Stayed at Mrs. Mahoney's till Curfew to-night, then went home and spun yarns for Ruth and Norma. Emma (Mrs. Monroe's girl) let Chrissy out of his cage when I was in the other room and the light was burning! I certainly was scared, but I managed to coax him into his cage.

February 21, 1913 - Friday

21 - Went to Mae's after school and stayed till supper time. After supper I stayed at Mrs. Mahoney's, but she called Dan out and seemed to be scolding him about something. I caught the words, "Marjorie James," so I did the Arab act, my coat representing my tent. Walked up F. Ave. and through to A. Ave. by the Cathedral, but, of course, saw nothing of Pit. Hardly expected to. I just walk through that way to gaze mournfully (and sickeningly) at the Pitblado house, I guess. At least, that's all I do.

February 20, 1913 - Thursday

20 - Caught up with the advance class which is having a review. Did not stay till Curfew, even, as Mrs. M. told Dan to come to the telephone, "if they can spare you that long." Spare him! Words fail me.

Mae's "Roman parent" gave her an electric flat-iron, a dandy one! She left the directions for using it here, and came back for them at about 9. We sat in the parlor a long while afterwards and I told her I was still crazy about Don. She was very dear and sympathetic. I have an idea (don't start, dear reader, I'm often taken that way) that I'm a fool to parade my sickly sentimentality, even before Mae, but it seems pretty real to me just now, though later I'll probably laugh at my desperate case of unrequited passion. Just now, however, I don't laugh. Sometimes I weep about it, but the "funny side" has not yet obtruded itself on my sight. The humor of even the most humorous (of which I'm not one) is strangely un-keen on the subject of their love affairs.

February 19, 1913 - Wednesday

19 - Mae wrote to Bonny Babcock and told her what I had told her (Mae) about Don's diary. I had told in a sort of offhand way, as if I didn't care a snap, how Don used to be in love with Bonnie. I just did it to let Mae think that I had no personal feeling about it. Bonnie wrote to Don about it and I suppose he just loves me for telling, though I never said I wouldn't. I heard all this from Dan who was at Don's last night. Talk about sieves! Mae is next to the worst I ever saw (myself being the worst).

The girl who sits at my desk part of the time at school is certainly training to be a sure-enough stenographer. She chews gum by the lb. and leaves it all over. When I found the forty 'leventh piece hermetically sealing my table drawer, so that I had to use a knife to pry it open, I got peevish. She opens my drawer and sticks the gum on the top. I patiently peeled it of with my knife and then hung a little sigh ("Post no Gum.") right where she could see it if she opened the desk. She did see it all right, for when I came back I found a post-script added to my sign, "Nothing the matter with you," and a fresh wad of gum. I underlined the no in my sign and added "this means you". That should hold her. Miss Bartlett told Miss Sherman of a little sarcasm I passed on our few-and-far-between pencils. Let us hope the day of my artless confidences is almost past.

Dan felt extra gay and Mae, very glum to-night. I felt in between, with a slight leaning toward glumity. Played checkers with Ruth when I got home, but it wasn't very exciting. She's too easy to beat. Told Ruth and Norma a fairy story before bed.

February 18, 1913 - Tuesday

18 - Dreamt about Don last night, and it was one spiffy dream! Some cheeky person in school (this is not a dream) swiped my knife and hung it over Miss Sherman's desk. Evidently the students at Morse's have heard of Damocles.

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The 'Sword of Damocles' is a moral anecdote about a Damocles being granted a time on King Dionysius' throne - but under a sword held up by only a hair. As Cicero wrote in Tusculan Disputations: "Does not Dionysius seem to have made it sufficiently clear that there can be nothing happy for the person over whom some fear always looms?" See wikipedia for details.

February 17, 1913 - Monday

17 - An Indian, Dr. Eastman, formerly chief of the Sioux Tribe, but now a professor and lecturer, spoke to us in school to-day. He was not in native costume (as pictured above), but one must make allowance for artistic license. He spoke rather broken English, and my sole impression of his looks is a regular T. R. smile. I do beleive the man had 1000 teeth! but he was very interesting.

Overstayed Curfew fifteen minutes. Must make it up tomorrow.

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beleive - sic

Dr. Eastman is most likely Charles Eastman. Visit wikipedia or World Wisdom for more information.

(picture from wikipedia)

February 16, 1913 - Sunday

16 - Went to Sunday School, thereby startling several persons nearly into fits. Some youngsteres were pelting the church - and - sunday school - goers into the church with snowballs, and a reverend gentleman, who shall be nameless between us, called out, "Quit snowballing those kids, now. Cut it out." Alas, that such should be thus!

Only stayed at Mrs. Mahoney's till nearly eight, owing to "curfew."

February 15, 1913 - Saturday

15 - Went to Dr. Little's and made an appointment for three weeks from to-day. Shades of my aching jaw, and also of the Spanish Inquisition! I hope he won't more than murder me. Of course, I couldn't go to drawing class, as I've lost my specs, alas!

I went to Mae's in the afternoon. She tried to show me how to do up my hair (see illustration above) but it was a rank failure. To account for the noble work of art on the preceding page: Mae wouldn't let me kiss her. I said I didn't want to anyhow. Whereupon she replied "sour grapes." She came home with me after supper and stayed till Muz came home.

February 14, 1913 - Friday

(14) - Got seven valentines and a cold. The former were sent by Mae, Muz, Ruth, Mr. Culver, Bess and Helen Dibble and two personas who apparently prefer to "blush unseen" The latter was caused by (or so I imagine) the decided frost (or was it heat? Anyway it was one extreme or other) observable on the part of Miss Sherman when that dame caught me sharpening the red-lead pencils on our stenography table.

Read with Ruth till it was time to go to bed.

I am going to write an elaborate fairy story. I have the plan for it all thought out; and it will be more interesting (not to speak of the war and tear on my cerebrial region saved) if I make it up at my leisure and read it to Ruth & Norma instead of "making it up" as I go along, as I usually do.

February 13, 1913 - Thursday

13 - The one word "frost" explains Mae's general attitude these days, and as a freezer she is great! The blight of her displeasure falls alike on Dan and my humble and, as far as I can see unoffending self, so I suppose said displeasure is caused by what Dan terms with the rare delicacy every prominent in youths of his age, "the Scandal in Bohemia." I should worry, and produce wrinkles in my alabaster be-row!

Had to take a test on word signs twice as I am supposed to get about 95, and I only got 85 the first time.

Harriet asked me to come over to her house and then called me up, just at supper, to tell me she had to go to Milly Daniel's and would I postpone my visit to next week? I will, and then some. Tell that little fable to the Marines and the little fishes, Hatty dear!

February 12, 1913 - Wednesday

12 - Mrs. Mahoney has installed an 8 oclock curfew. To be more explicit she has told Mae and me that we must go home at eight. As Mae so aptly remarks, it is too bad that we didn't get out before we were kicked out.

"Curfew shall not ring to-night."

February 11, 1913 - Tuesday

11 - Got myself into a nice mess yesterday. Mae told Dan what I told her, and he seemed to imagine that I was boasting. Boasting!?@*@!!!?

And he actually had the crust to lecture me all the way home. Another lesson learned (See a few pages back for the first one) It's better, though, to make a few awful blunders while I'm young, then avoid them later, when they will be more inexcusable. Too bad Mae had to shoot off her mouth, but I'll know better next time, and I suppose it was hard for her to let that chance for teasing slip by.

February 10, 1913 - Monday

10 - Dan told Mae some cock-and-bull story about having been trying to bite my nose last night. However, as I thought she suspected anyway, I told her the truth about it. I'm glad Dan told her a fish story, as I would not have thought much of him otherwise. Mae played hookey. I took a test on third place vowels to-day.

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An example of third place vowels in stenography can be found here.