I seemed to have
no Friends, at a time when I needed them most, when I was, as one may
say, "standing with reluctent feet, where the brook and river meet."
Tonight I am no longer sick of Life, as I was then. My throws of anguish
have departed. But I was then uterly reckless, and even considered
running away and going on the stage myself.
I have long desired a Career for mvself, anyhow. I have a good mind, and
learn easily, and I am not a Paracite. The idea of being such has always
been repugnent to me, while the idea of a few dollars at a time doaled
out to one of independant mind is galling. And how is one to remember
what one has done with one's Allowence, when it is mostly eaten up
by Small Lones, Carfare, Stamps, Church Collection, Rose Water and
Glicerine, and other Mild Cosmetics, and the aditional Food necesary
when one is still growing?
To resume, Dear Dairy; having uterly failed with Hannah, and having
shortly after met Sis on the stairs, I said to her, in a sisterly tone,
intimite rather than fond:
"I darsay you can lend me five dollars for a day or so."
"I darsay I can. But I won't," was her cruel reply.
"Oh, very well," I said breifly. But I could not refrain from making a
grimase at her back, and she saw me in a mirror.
"When I think," she said heartlessly, "that that wreched school may be
closed for weeks, I could scream."
"Well, scream!" I replied. "You'll scream harder if I've brought the
meazles home on me. And if you're laid up, you can say good-bye to the
Dishonorable.
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