Carolyn Wells

“ Yes, yes, I’ll draw my check! Do give me a moment to draw my breath first. You see I’m not used to these things. Why, with a real bank account of my own, I feel like an Organized Charity! I suppose I ought to hunt up some Worthy Poor! Well, I’ll just get that hat first. Now, let me see. Oh, yes, of course you may help me, but I want to do the actual drawing myself. It’s the only way to learn. Why, when I took Art lessons, I made a burnt-wood sofa pillow all myself! ”

“ They want poor, dumb animals to have a vote. Oh, I understand those things well enough, but I’m really too busy to do much about them. Oh, you only want me to lend my name. Yes, I do want honest politics; but I think they’re too honest as it is. They won’t let you smuggle in a little bit of lace or anything like that, as we used to do. I don’t mind paying the customs, but it’s so much more fun to smuggle! As if two or three little bits of lace would hurt the United States government!
“Equal rights? Have half of Bob’s money? Oh, I have more than that now! What! Some women don’t? ”

“ It’s pathetic to see their gratitude for six cents. Why, the other day Mrs. Muchmore kept me waiting with her a long time to get her nine cents change, and when I suggested that she come away without it, and let the shopgirl have it, she looked at me as if I had robbed her. Well, then we were late for the matinée, and had to take a taxicab; so she didn’t make much, after all.
No; I’m a great friend of the shopgirl, and I’m glad to do all I can for them; but this buying Christmas presents in October is so tame and uninteresting! ”

“ Suppose we rip out these sleeves, and the lace neck, and just wear the bodice over this guimpe!
Oh! oh! it looks horrid! just like an old-fashioned “jumper” suit! You’ll have to put the neck back as it was.
But then what can we do with the sleeves?
Nothing! Just nothing! I shall have to stay at home until I can get some entirely new gowns made. It’s a sin and shame, the way we poor women have to be slaves to Fashion! And I know, just as soon as I am fitted out with long sleeves, the pretty, short ones will come in style again!
THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS SCENE.—The Pelhams’ living room. ”

“ Willing, you mustn’t get impatient. You men don’t realize what hard work shopping is, until now—Oh, my gracious! I have to be at our culture class by 4 o’clock. There’s a lecture on ‘Art Uplift in the Kitchen,’ and I know it will be fine.
“No, I don’t cook, but it’s such a satisfaction to know that one’s soup is made in a Greek-shaped jug, instead of a crude iron kettle—Oh, mercy, no! I wouldn’t wear a veil like that! Why, Mrs. Bailey had one like that once, and the very day I saw her wearing it I lost my amethyst hatpin. I’ve always considered a veil like that unlucky ever since. ”

“ Look at the new books on the table—Yes, Jack, truly, I need the experienced advice of an all-round man of the world—like you—oh, yes, you are—you’re awfully well balanced and all that—don’t talk when I am talking—wait till I ring off—oh, Jane is just bringing me a card—wait a minute, Jack—why, it’s Mr. Strong—I like that man awfully well—show him in, Jane. Goodby, Jack—no, I can’t listen now—good-by.”
“How do you do, Mr. Strong? Do sit down. Take this easy chair. I’m so glad to see you—yes, isn’t it dull weather? So good of you to come and brighten up an otherwise lonely afternoon. ”

“ Yes, of course, it is for the hat at Featherton’s that I want the check. I am afraid you will think I am silly, but really I have so many things to think about that it is hard to keep my mind on just one thing. You must make allowances for girls who have so many things to think about. Of course, with a man like you, who only has checks and money to think about all day long, it is so easy—I’d be bored if I had nothing but money and checks all day. ”

“ Down to the shops? ’Deed I will get my coat and hat! There isn’t a soul left to buy a present for; but we can buy some things for next year—Oh, no, no, not that! But we’ll buy some things and give them to the shopgirls. And, at any rate, we’ll get into the bustle and cheer of a real Christmas Eve! Come on, Dick, I’m all ready! Merry Christmas, Dick!
A NEW RECRUIT “Oh, good morning, Miss Coggswell! Do sit down. Yes, isn’t it? So spring-like and balmy. Oh, not at all; I’m never busy. I’m always glad to see callers. On business? Oh, I don’t know anything about business! About Suffrage! ”

“ He said we’d lunch at a swell hotel—John’s a perfect dear about such things, if we have been married nearly two years. So, of course, I wanted to look my bestest, and I put on my new blue gown. I’d never had it on before, and—Yes, it is a hobble skirt; but I begged Miss Threadley not to make it extreme. I do hate extreme fashions. So she said she’d make a modified hobble, a hobblette, she calls it—and she assured me it would be all right. It’s a perfect beauty, my dear; but, good land! It’s exactly the shape of a bolster slip, and round the knees it’s fitted tightly and boned. ”

“ If those suffrage people would only get for women the right to bare arms, they’d do something worth while.
No, indeed, I can’t afford to get new gowns. These are too good to throw away.
Well, they may not be the latest style, but I don’t want those bolster-slip arrangements for mine.
Mrs. Van Bumpus, now—you know her, don’t you? Well, it would take two kimonos to go round her, I’m sure; and I saw her the other day in one of those clinging satin rigs. My! she looked exactly like a gypsy-wagon, the kind that has canvas stretched over its ribs. ”

“ You know, all my gowns have elbow sleeves, and I must either have long ones put in or throw the whole dress away.
Yes, I know I said I’d wear the short sleeves, if other people did insist on having long ones. I know I said I’d be independent, and at least wear out the ones I have. But I’m conquered! I admit it! It isn’t any fun to go to a luncheon and be the only woman at the table with elbow sleeves! ”

“ Me! the greatest living example of a young woman with earnest aims and high ideals! Well,—so I said—yes, yes, Miss Cooke, I am folding it up as fast as I can,—I’ll be ready in a minute,—don’t make that foolish noise, pretty lady. Shall I sit here by Flossy Fay? Oh, what winsome looking creatures! Live crabs? Are they? And we’re to learn to make “Crab Flakes à la Pittsburg?” ”

“ I’ve bought a paper pattern—I bought three—for I mean to spare no expense in getting my sleeves right.
So I bought three different makes, and think this one is best. It was a sort of bargain, too, for they sold the sleeve pattern and a pattern for little boys’ pajamas, all for ten cents. I don’t know what to do with the pajamas pattern—so that does seem a waste. I’ve no little boy, and I shouldn’t make pajamas for him if I had. I think the one-piece nighties far more sensible. If you know of any one who has a little boy, I’ll sell that pattern for half price. ”

“ You just tell the government how to make the laws, and you purify politics, and things like that. That part is easy enough. Of course I’ve kept up with the suffrage movement; one must be intelligent. I know all about how they want the shirtwaist makers not to make so many waists, and I don’t wonder! ”

“ Have you a check-book?”
“How curt you are! I thought you’d like to help me. Men ‘most always do. Yes, I have a check-book,—that other clerk gave it to me. But I don’t like it, and I want to exchange it. See,—it has a horrid, plain black muslin cover! Don’t you have any bound in gray suède, with gilt edges. I’m willing to pay extra.”
“We have no other kind, Miss. How much money do you want?” ”

“ Well, I can’t wear piqué sleeves in a crépon gown! Can I? There—I’ve cut it! Now, “close seam, gather between double crosses, make no seam where there are three crosses, bring together corresponding lines of perforations—and finish free edges!” Well! I rather guess those free edges will finish me! However, baste it up, Miss Cotton, and I’ll try it on. It’s easy to make sleeves, after all, isn’t it? ”

“ Oh, just sit on the stage and wear lovely gowns? Yes, I’d rather like that.
“Well, I suppose I might be persuaded to become a suffragist; but I think I’d rather have an aeroplane.
“Yes, I do believe in independence. I think every woman ought to have a mind of her own and decide upon her own actions. I hate a wobbly-minded woman! Well, about this suffrage business, I’ll ask my husband and do as he says.”
SHOPPING FOR POSTAGE STAMPS “You keep stamps, don’t you?” ”

“ But men can’t stand a bit of discomfort!”
“Confound your impertinence, Miss! What are you talking about? I don’t know what your aunt meant by getting you over here this afternoon! You’ve no more feeling or sympathy than a Dutch doll!”
“Oh, yes I have, Uncle, dear! Here, I’ll rest your foot in an easier position—”
“Ooo! E—E! Ouch!! Gosh, Lilly! I wish I had something to throw at you! Get away, girl!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry for your poor, dear, suffering old wrapped-up bundle of foot! Here, let me put another sofa cushion under it. ”

“ They’re the kind of people that might be called ‘classy.’ I never use that word, but somehow it seems to fit them. They want notoriety, the same as the people in the country papers who have their back fence painted. ”

“ I have to exercise, or I gain at once. Now please attend to the things I’ve asked of you. If you standardize, you can easily have time for all. And in your spare moments, here’s a piece of my cross-stitch embroidery,—you may as well do a little. ”

“ Is this the exchange desk? Well, I want to return this piece of goods—Oh, no! It isn’t soiled! That’s the original color. Frightened mice often look soiled when they’re not at all! Yes, that is the name! ”

“ I simply have to do it my own way, for it makes me nervous to depend on those policemen. I always cross in the middle of a block to escape them. I just watch for a good chance, you know, and then I run across fast, and I always manage all right. ”

“ Not professionally,—you know,—just tell them stories and make up games for them. Oh, and be sure to arrange prizes,—children just love prizes. Are you knacky about such things? Some people are,—and others are so different! ”