A Parody Outline of History: Wherein May Be Found a Curiously Irreverent Treatment of American Historical Events, Imagining Them as They Would Be Narrated by America's Most Characteristic Contemporary AuthorsStewart, Donald Ogden
History
A Parody Outline of History: Wherein May Be Found a Curiously Irreverent Treatment of American Historical Events, Imagining Them as They Would Be Narrated by America's Most Characteristic Contemporary Authors
Stewart, Donald Ogden
Parodies; United States -- History -- Humor
It had been rumored that the general, being a soldier, was ignorant of
social etiquette, but such proved to be far from the case. Indeed, he
handled himself with such ease of manner that he captivated all, and for
each and every young miss he had an apt phrase or a pretty compliment,
greatly to their delight.
"Pleased to know you"--"Glad to shake the hand of such a pretty
girl"--"What a nice little hand--I wish I might hold it all
evening"--with these and kindred pleasantries the general won the way
into the graces of Mrs. van der Griff's fair guests, and many a female
heart fluttered in her bosom as she gazed into the clear blue eyes of
the soldier, and listened to his well chosen tactful words.
"And how is the dear General this evening?"--this in the affected tone
of old Mrs. Rhinelander, as she forced her way through the crowd.
"Finer than silk," replied he, and he added, solicitously, "I hope you
have recovered from your lumbago, Mrs. Rhinelander."
"Oh quite," answered she, "and here is Geraldine, General," and the
ambitious mother pushed her daughter forward.
"Comment vous portez vous, mon General," said Geraldine in French, "I
hope we can have a nice tete-a-tete to-night," and she fawned upon her
prey in a manner that would have sickened a less artificial gathering.
Were there not some amid all that fashionable throng in whom ideals
of purity and true womanhood lived--some who cared enough for the
sacredness of real love to cry upon this hollow mockery that was being
used to ensnare the simple, honest soldier? There was only one, and she
was at that moment entering the drawing room for the purpose of being
presented to the general. Need I name her?
Ella, for it was she, had been upstairs busying herself with her toilet
when General Grant had arrived and she now hurried forward to pay her
homage to the great soldier. And then, as she caught sight of his face,
she stopped suddenly and a deep crimson blush spread over her features.
She looked again, and then drew back behind a nearby portiere, her heart
beating wildly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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