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.

---

"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.