I have gained prizes as a boy for
mathematics, also for scripture history--not often, but I have done
it. A literary critic, now dead, once praised a book of mine. I
know there have been occasions when my conduct has won the
approbation of good men; but never--never in my whole life, have I
felt more proud, more satisfied with myself than on that evening
when, the last hook fastened, I gazed at my full-length Self in the
cheval glass. I was a dream. I say it who should not; but I am not
the only one who said it. I was a glittering dream. The groundwork
was red, trimmed with gold braid wherever there was room for gold
braid; and where there was no more possible room for gold braid
there hung gold cords, and tassels, and straps. Gold buttons and
buckles fastened me, gold embroidered belts and sashes caressed me,
white horse-hair plumes waved o'er me. I am not sure that
everything was in its proper place, but I managed to get everything
on somehow, and I looked well. It suited me. My success was a
revelation to me of female human nature. Girls who had hitherto
been cold and distant gathered round me, timidly solicitous of
notice. Girls on whom I smiled lost their heads and gave themselves
airs.
Pages:
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26