Blanche Yurka's '07 Blog

My Daily Entries This Week

Sat Aug 24

The only book I have succeeded in reading persistently is "Diana'' by Meredith.  To be frank with myself, I doubt I should have waded beyond that first awful chapter, had it not been for the recollection of Bess's and Mr. Middleton's enthusiasm over the book.  My patience has been more than rewarded, for Diana is a friend worth having, though I do not pretend to know her after one perusal. The dinner table brilliancies go quite over my head; my wit is not nimble enough to grasp them, but I think I appreciate his wonderful grasp of human emotions, and the powerful lightness of his touch in depicting them.  It has occurred to me that Mrs. C's circumstances bear a slight, very slight  resemblance to Diana's. Her charm, her great intelligence and the necessity for her to work very hard in order to keep up an attractive establishment, are the chief points of similarity, tho of course there is none of the misery of Diana's wretched married life, and subsequent calamities. But I think Mrs. C. could safely be called a Meredithian woman.

Sun Aug 25
 
The scales of "social'' success are heavily weighted on our side; for at the Wagner recital Mr. Kennard and the Willis boy's heads were over my shoulders the whole evening, with Pundit and Smith just behind; on the other side of the aisle the Fuller faction heavily attended by -- mama!  I could see by Betty's beaming glances that the effect was excellent, so my heart was glad.  This afternoon after I had sung in the tent, Mr. Kennard chugged up and tormented us by eating lbs of chocolates under our noses, while we, fixed by May's glare and gestures, dared not move.  Finally when the effect of the Emersonian style of oratory became too powerful, I walked out and in a very short minute I saw from the farthest corner of my eye that Kennard had also "lit out'' and was sitting tentatively in his machine waiting for me to approach.  That did not appeal to me so I walked on to the cottage, and waited.  He did the same, and when after all manner of gestures on his part, and laughing shakes of the head on mine, he chugged off, leaving me to wonder whether reluctance is always best.  But I couldn't make up my mind to go over to him, with Miss Kirsh  and "Bill''  on the neighboring porch.  But blessings on the nice manly creature; he came tooting down after supper and took us for a long, lovely spin in the moonlight.  He said he puzzled for hours trying to understand our actions of the P.M. and finally decided that I was giving him a "frost.'' Which makes it still nicer of him to have come back to explain.  We stopped off for gasoline, and were introduced to his mother and father; I sang for them and in ten minutes had quite won her over.  I promised to sing at their church next Sunday and she promised to call on us and bring us another of her wonderful pies!

We called on the two O'Neill girls at separate times today.  They are a most curious pair of twins -- for their mother Contesse de Bielsky most beautifully aristocratic to look upon has always insisted that they have separate rooms and each follow her own tastes, and develop her own individuality.  But it is a little bit pathetic for the one is a much more sparkling personality than the other; and I fancy attracts more attention.  She is also more attractive, altho' the quiet one has a sensitive charm in her face, which proves to be a very sweet part of her nature, when one takes the trouble to investigate. As usual, when one sister outsparkles the other, I think, the quiet one is the unselfish one.  It is not especially the fault of the shining light.  Circumstances have arranged themselves in that relation usually, long before their was any conscious desire for service on the part of the spoiled darling of fortune.

Mon Aug 26

The morning Betty and I spent delightfully in the Pines reading De Musset's "Lorenzaccio.'' Of all the plain-spoken plays! that reaches the limit. The French certainly have the faculty of saying dreadful things gracefully, but they leave absolutely nothing unsaid. We had the time of our lives in the P.M. and evening. Old Mr. Morton took Betty and me to Portsmouth where he met a friend who has one of the oldest Colonial houses in the town.  He took us thro' and such treasures! Manuscripts and letters from people who have made our history, fine old china from revolutionary times, and four poster beds so high that one would need a ladder.  And oh! The wonderful old mirrors and fireplaces! It was such a treat! After that we walked thro' the old part of the town, where these rows of lovely old Colonial houses still stand, giving the rather narrow, old-fashioned streets an atmosphere of romance which causes one's imagination to run riot.  Mr. Morton insisted that we could not close so picturesque an afternoon by going home so we had a delightful dinner at the Rockingham, in the room where the Peace Committee held its conferences and had its meals served. We felt very exclusive to have a private dining room in white and gold.  And then the English waiter who dropped his waiter-manners and worked up this stagy conversation, which comes back to me like a scene from a play.  We all screamed and I wondered if it were my fault, as it was I who did the talking to him.

After dinner, we stood waiting for the car when a stunning auto went whizzing by and the two men within hailed us and asked if we were going to the circus.  We declined, of  course, till we found they were doing it as business. Then in we hopped, and were whizzed away in great state.  The circus was good, one clown especially being like a whiff from Broadway.  The auto took us back to the ferry, where, woe! we had to wait almost an hour for our car. So Betty and I "just to pass the time away'' began doing theatrical stunts of the 10-20-30 variety, she, wrapped up in Mr. M's overcoat, letting herself be driven out into the "cowld'', while I "Egad! e'en I'' gloated over her melodramatic style.  Well, we screamed with laughter and poor Mr. M. was a wreck; and could only repeat, between shakes "This is no place for a nervous woman!'' Betty and I voted it a red-letter day, when we finally reached home.

Tues Aug 27

Next morning -- Tuesday, we heard the charming Mr. Sanborn -- really beautiful to look at, and with such a sense of humor and such repartee, give reminiscences of Longfellow, Whittier, and Aggasiz, all of whom he knew well.  He also was the neighbor of Emerson; and to hear the charming bits of talk about celebrities who to most people are nothing but a printed name, makes me realize what this Greenacre experience is doing for me.  The wonderful privilege of meeting all of these splendidly brainy people, -- and the more truly gifted they are, the greater the simplicity and charm -- and of living in this beautiful place, with a charming cottage to isolate one's self in; besides the convenience and comfort of an expensive hotel; when I realize that all this has come to me at no expense whatsoever; merely for doing for about 20 minutes a week, the thing I love to do more than anything else, well -- "My cup runneth over.''

Wed Aug 28

Billy Kennard took us out on the river in his ducky sailboat, and we spent the P.M. fishing, Betty and I for the first time, and caught 60 fish. What joy! Mrs. Lucas gave a charming recital this P.M. Her voice is of a very sweet quality, and she uses it in charming style, except that there is not an atom of dramatic expression in it, and after a certain length of time, the syrup-y sweetness of it becomes cloying -- to me at least!  I cannot imagine not being able to get a little depth of feeling into a voice so perfectly placed!  That, I suppose, is just where I have failed -- in not paying enough attention to the "syrup-y sweetness'' and leaving the dramatic expression for later. The effect of the recital was to leave me in a condition mentally parallel to having eaten too much candy -- and it was like a tonic to find Mrs. Campbell at the Sewall tea, and to hear the sharp duel of words which took place between Mr. Sanborn and Mrs. Sewall.  She is really clever; if only she had not that cock-sure aggressiveness of opinion, which makes her do very tactless things sometimes.

Thurs Aug 29

We took De Musset to the Pines, and finished "Lorenzaccio.'' It certainly is true of all his plays that the expected never happens. By a mere flick of conversation he turns the whole scene, and with what daring!  I am not sure that they would act well -- they are too little in accord with traditional dramatic situations; except two delightful short comedies, "Un Caprice'' and "La Nuit Venetienne'' both of which are perfect, and would make splendid curtain raisers, provided the charm of mood could be retained in a translation.

I sang this P.M. at the W.C.T.U. meeting.  It was alright until a sweet-faced boy, representing the young contingent of the society, stepped up to the platform, and without any warning, hurled forth this vitriolic speech, inciting these "citizens and pillars of civilization'' (meaning the peaceful old ladies before him) to "rise and throttle this demon of H-ll'' who is destroying the purity and virtue of our homes! Dr-r-r-ink! Oh, the curse of it ! How long, O Lord, how long!'' etc. etc. Betty and I shook in an agony of repressed laughter, dropping books in order to give us an excuse for stooping to hide our faces. Oh! it was "par troup fort'' and we beat a hasty retreat.

A charming Mr. Johnson whom I had met at the "Slav. celebrity'' night at the Alliance, was at our table at supper, oh! the pleasure of meeting a man with perfect, polished manners! After the "unconventional'' rudeness and neglect of -- well Hartley is chief offender in that line! He is a pill, in spite of his talent! Betty and I donned our very best -- looking like a direct importation from N.Y. -- and went over to his picture exhibit at Mrs. Ole Bull's.  His surf marines are gems, and done with a master touch; the brighter effects and figures are so nearly chromo-esque, to my ignorant judgement, that they do not seem from the same brush.  We finished the day in Newport style, for we went from the exhibit to Miss Kirsh's for supper, and then with 3 "perfectly good men'' as Betty would say, came down to the Eirenion to the dance.  It was truly joyous, to know that we looked our Best, to have plenty of tall, intelligent men to dance with; and to be able to "book one's self up'' for dances ahead!  But Hartley, after his apparent appreciation of our visit in the afternoon, made not the slightest effort to dance with either of us!  And had he merely neglected me, I should not have been so surprised, for while I dance as well as the  average, I am not an irresistible magnet. But Betty is known as far and away the best dancer here; so I cannot understand his behavior.  It was execrable!

< Previous | Top | Next >