Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction
Oct. 3.-Summer is over, school has begun again, and I am so busy that
I have not much time to think, to be low spirited. We had a
delightful journey, and I feel well and bright, and even gay. I never
enjoyed my studies as I do those of this year. Everything goes on
pleasantly here at home. But James has gone away to school, and we
miss him sadly. I wish I had a sister. Though I dare say I should
quarrel with her, if I had.
Oct 23.-I am so glad that my studies are harder this year, as I am
never happy except when every moment is occupied. However, I do not
study all the time, by any means. Mrs. Gordon grows more and more
fond of me, and has me there to dinner or to tea continually. She has
a much higher opinion of me than mother has, and is always saying the
sort of things that make you feel nice. She holds me up to Amelia as
an example, begging her to imitate me in my fidelity about my
lessons, and declaring there is nothing she so much desires as to
have a daughter bright and original like me. Amelia only laughs, and
goes and purrs in her mother's ears when she hears such talk. It
costs her nothing to be pleasant. She was born so. For my part, I
think myself lucky to have such a friend. She gets along with my odd,
hateful ways better than any one else does. Mother, when I boast of
this, says she has no penetration into character, and that she would
be fond of almost any one fond of her; and that the fury with which I
love her deserves some response. I really don't know what to make of
mother. Most people are proud of their children when they see others
admire them; but she does say such pokey things! Of course I know
that having a gift for music, and a taste for drawing, and a
reputation for saying witty, bright things isn't enough. But when she
doesn't find fault with me, and nothing happens to keep me down, I am
the gayest creature on earth. I do love to get with a lot of nice
girls, and carry on! I have got enough fun in me to keep a houseful
merry. And mother needn't say anything. I inherited it from her.
Evening.-I knew it was coming! Mother has been in to see what I was
about, and to give me a bit of her mind. She says she loves to see me
gay and cheerful, as is natural at my age, but that levity quite
upsets and disorders the mind, indisposing it for serious thoughts.
"But, mother," I said, "didn't you carry on when you were a young
girl?"
"Of course I did," she said, smiling. "But I do not think I was quite
so thoughtless as you are."
"Thoughtless" indeed! I wish I were! But am I not always full of
uneasy, reproachful thoughts when the moment of excitement is over?
Other girls, who seem less trifling than I, are really more so. Their
heads are full of dresses and parties and beaux, and all that sort of
nonsense. I wonder if that ever worries their mothers, or whether
mine is the only one who weeps in secret? Well, I shall be young but
once, and while I am, do let me have a good time!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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