The Sunday Oregonian., May 24, 1908, Magazine Section, Page 6, Image 52

THE SUNDAY OREGOMAX, PORTLAND, MAY 24, I90S.
"P
BY VAROLII WELLS'
MY own subjective London was
achieving itself. I have always
remembered . pleaiantly. how,
Without a bit of trouble.
Arabella blew a bubble.
nd. with emulative ease. 1 blew a beau
tiful, impalpable, iridescent . sphere and
called it London.
To be sure, a single interrogation point
from an earnest tourist would have burst
my bubble, for my whole London hadn'
a Tower or a British Museum in It.
Nor was this an oversight Calling to
my aid a moral courage that was prac
tically a moral hardihood. I had delib
erately concluded I would do no sigiu
neelng. Not that I objected to seeing a
fight, now and then, but the sight would
have to put itself in my way. and the
conditions would have to be such that I
Fhould prefer to- go through the sight
rather than around it.
Indeed, it was largely the word sight
seeing, that I took exception to. Such a
very defective verb! Who would volun
tarily put herself in a position to say,
"I sightsaw the National Gallery yes
terday," or "I have sightseen the whole
city. and then have no proper parts of
speech to say It with?
Moreover. I was not willing to go about
my London carrying a Baedeker. In
truth, my soul was possessed of con
flicting emotions toward that little red
book. As a directory it was invaluable.
Never did I get an invitation to a place
of mysterious sound, such as Kensing
ton Gore, or Bird-in-Bush Road, but I
ran to my Baedeker and oulckly found
therein the location, description and di
rections for reaching the same. I soon
mastered the pink and gray maps, with
their clever contrivance of correspond
ing numbers, and with my Baedeker
iback of me I could have found the most
nbscure. and bewildering address that
even a T.ondoner is capable of devising.
But the pages devoted to "Sights
which Should on No Account Be Omit
ted," and the kindly advice on "Disposi
tion of Time for the Hurried Visitor," I
avoided with all the strength of my un
sightsrelng soul.
I was often amused at the ingenious
(Torts of tourists to disguise their Bae
dekers. One tailor-made AmerlcalT girl
had her neatly covered with bright blue
paper, quite oblivious" of the fact that
the marbeled edges and fluttering red and
black tapes are unmistakable. Another,
n. ' pedagogic Bostonian. had hers wrapped
In brown paper and tied with a string.
Another had a leather case which ex
actly fitted the volume. And I thought
that as the ntirte in art Is far less sug
gestive than the semi-draped figure, so
the uncovered red hook was really less
noticeable than these futile attempts at
dtf-'gulso.
Having, then definitely decided that I
should eventually return to America
without having set foot In the Tower,
the Bank or the C'harter-'house. I dretf
a long breath of rontent and pave my
self up to the delight of just living in
the atmosphere of my own London.
And yet. I wanted to go to the Tower,
the Bank and the. Charter-houBe. I want
ed to go to Westminster Abbey and
Saint Paul's and tha National Gallery.
But I did not want to go for the first
time. I wanted to revisit these places,
and how could I do that when I had
never yet visited them?
First Impressions of Piccadilly or Hyde
Park are all very well, but first impres
sions are incongruous in connection with
Westminster Abbey. What has crude ad
miration to do with experienced sublim
ity? How absurd to let the gaze of sur
prise rest upon age-accustomed glory!
What presumption to look at solemn
ancient grandeur as at a novelty! I
wished that I had been to Westminster
jlfcey many, many times, and that I
could drift In again some lovely Summer
afternoon to revive old memories and re
new old emotions.
But as this might not fce. then would
Mitt. LEVI ANKEMG
ttHlP'n
PT MARGARET B. TXVKTNG.
WASHINGTON, May 18. (Special
Correspondence of The Sunday
Oregonian.) Lev. Ankeny has been
likened to Mark Twain enlarged two sizes,
but he take more comfort in his prowess
as. a mighty fisherman than his resem
blance to the great humorist, and Mrs.
Ankeny seems to find the Joy of her life
'In telling these same fish stories. Those
;who visit the Ankenys naturally talk of
fish, for their home is filled with illus-
trated fish stories, that Is snapshots of
; the various members of the family in the
act of landing tremendous salmon, or idly
1 toying with fish and line on some sunny
spot along the Columbia River. We of
AVashington State talk our salmon just as
naturally as New Yorkers boast of Niag
ara or the Bostonese the sacred cod and
Plymouth Rock. It is local pride," said
'Mrs. Ankeny, displaying the latest set
of photographs which the Senator has in
1 readiness to illustrate his recent adven
tures with the wily salmon. One picture
. shows him (looking very much like Mark
Twain, indeed) standing behind a line of
, 22 salmon, all caught with his own hook,
according to veritable witnesses. Each
fish weighs more than six pounds and
; some of them weigh 16. Yet, says Mrs.
Ankeny, this was not an exceptional oc
casion. Fifty to 80 fish from 8 to 14
pounds is a fair haul when times are
propitious.
"Washington State and Washington CUy
' might be separate worlds, for any resem
blance they bear as to the manner of life,
the viewpoint or the ideals which prevail,
especially among the women, said Mrs.
Ankeny one day last week. "When one
breathes the air of the Northwest and
becomes identified with life on the fron
' tier, conditions on the seaboard seem arti
ficial. They inspire none of the enthusi
asm which those feel who have carved
- out a civilization in the midst of the
wilderness. Ready-made cities seem in
sipid to me and the joy of watching mu
nicipal development is gone. From my
earliest remembrance, I have heard thrill
ing tales and have known the joy which
only those can feel who have successfully
passed through danger. When my father
made the Journey from New York to Ore
gon In 1S43 it took him one year, and every
inch of his way was surrounded by perils,
the dangers of the great unknown coun
try, the elements, wild beasts, the more
dangerous wild beasts, Indians, a thou
sand and one dangers which everyone
who blazons the path of civilisation must
encounter. When my husband came West
from Missouri In 1S60, a child of six, the
journey required about four months. Now
we make the trip from "Washington City
to Walla Walla In about four days. My
sons frequently surprise us with a visit
And it is a great pleasure, of course, but
I keep away from it entirely, and study
it from books as I had always done.
One day a departing caller carelessly
left behind her a pamphlet entitled "The
Deanery Guide to Westminster Abbey."
With a natural curiosity, 1 picked it up
and opened it.
But I got no farther than the first fly
leaf, for that bore an advertisement of
Rowland's Macassar Oil! I promptly
forgot the existence of Westminster Abbey
in the delight of finding that my London
contained such a desirable commodity.
Not that I wished to purchase the lotion,
but I was absorbingly interested to learn
that there really was such a thing. I had
never heard of it before except in con
nection with the aged, aged man. a-sit-ting
on a gate, who manufactured Row
land's Macassar 'Oil from mountain rills
which he chanced to set ablaze. The
remembrance of that dear old white
haired man. placidly going his ways, and
content with the tuppence ha' -penny that
rewarded his toil, tilled my soul to the
exclusion of all else, - and . he made a
welcome addition to the census o my
own London. It was pleasant, too. to
reflect on the sound logic of the English
people when they coined the word "anti
macassar." How much more restrictedly
definite than our word- "tidy!"
Well, then next it came about that I
went for a walk.
And, as was bound to happen sooner or
later, I was strolling unthinkingly along,
when I found myself with the Houses of
Parliament on my right hand and Wesf
minster Abbey on my left. I was fairly
caught, and surrendered at discrefron.
The only question was which way to
turn. As I had no choice in the matter,
I should logically have gone; like John
Burldan's ass, straight ahead, and 80
He bo dominates the group of tourti
signs of almost
missed both; but the Abbey, with an al
most perceptible nod of invitation, com
pelled me to turn that way, and Invol
untarily, though not at all unwillingly,
I entered.
"Whereupon I made the startling dis
covery that I was in the Poets Corner!
Now, I had definitely planned that if
ever I did visit the Abbey, I would enter
by the North Transept, and gradually
accustom myself to the atmosphere of
the place. I would go away after a short
Inspection and return several times to
revisit It, before I even approached the
Poets Corner. And to find myself thus
unexpectedly and somewhat informally
Introduced to an inscription attesting the
rarity of Ben Jonson, took me unawares
and my eyes rested coldly on the words,
and then passed on, still uninterestedly,
to Spencer, Milton and Gray.
Uncertain whether to advance or re-
TALK WITH COLONDL ,
DISTINGUISHED rwiGMTDR. ONHER
lyxwrnnwciDs jsd her views or
I think how much of the picturesquesness
Is taken from life In these days of steam.
"My father, James W. Nesmith, was
originally from Maine, and at one time
he was considered the richest man In
the golden State of Oregon. He never
had reason to complain of the tedious
routine of life, for his entire career
was filled with stirring events. He
took part In the first- legislative act
of the new region, namely, the Inaug
uration of the provisional government
on July 5, 1843, when the executive
power was invested in three persons,
the legislative in nine, elected by qual
ified delegates representing every dis
trict, and the Judicial was placed in
a supreme court, consisting of one
supreme judge and two justices of the
peace. My father served in the Senate
during the stirring days of the war
of the rebellion and he became a close
friend of Lincoln, Justice Chase and
Stanton. It was always his intention
to edit his reminiscences, not only in
connection with his part in the settle
ment of Oregon, but also his life in
Washington and his intercourse with
men whose names now loom large in
history. The most cherished part of
the legacy which my father left was
a huge collection of letters, many from
Lincoln, from Grant, Sherman and
Sheridan, besides the great men who
served in the legislative houses at the
same time. It is my earnest desire to
see these letters embodied in the his
tory of those times, and it is probable
that such a work will be soon be un
dertaken by my nephew, who is dis
tinctly literary in his .tastes. My sons
have selected a business career and
such labors would not be congenial.
I consider all these documents of tre
mendous importance, in these days,
when every minutiae of fact counts
so much towards the production of
sound history.
"Washington is becoming better
known to the general American be
cause It Is the highway to Alaska. In
my residence here I have noted how
many I meet have visited Washington,
always en route for the wonderful
land to the north. I think. Washington
deserves a visit on its own merits.
We have none of that burning issue
there, the climate, ur climate is de
lightful, just two seasons. Winter and
Summer, and we are so accustomed to
pleasant conditions that we take them
for granted. We never talk weather.
Here at the capital, the weather is
something like Congress or the admin
istration always in the wrong. "I
suppose you hear nothing but poli
tics." my friends say, when I get home
to Walla Walla, and I make answer,
no, that I bear of nothing but the
weather. I do not know Whether
others have noticed it, but I think
that Washingtonians talk weather
more than any other inhabitants of
treat, I look a few tentative steps, which
brought me to the bust of our own Long
fellow. The dignified and old-school New
Englander is here represented as a
plump-faced and jovial gentlenuV with
very curly hair. The marble is exces
sively white and new-looking, and alto
gether the monument suggests the Long
fellow who wrote "There was a Ittle
girl, who had a little curl," rather than
ts he conducts that they often show
human Intelligence.
the author of "Evangeline." But if not
of poetic effect, the bust is satisfactory
as a fine type of American manliobQ, so
I smiled back at it, and passed on.
Then, by chance, . I turned Into the
South Transept.
It was about 5 o'clock on a midsum
mer afternoon, the hour, as I have often
since proved, when the spell of the Poets'
Corner is most potent the hour when a
prismatic shaft of sunlight strikes ex
actly on the marble forehead of Burns,
and flickering sun-rays light up the face
of Southey. There, above the mortal re
mains of Henry Irving. I stood, and as
I looked up, I knew that at last West
minster Abbey and I were at orfcv
For I saw Shakespeare.
It was not the emotional atmosphere
of the place, for thai had not as yet
affected me. It was not historic associa
tion, for I knew Shakespeare's bones did
the globe. Then, Washington must
have the very worst climate on earth
for women from the Pacific Coast wilt
llillillll afclllllHISIll
s x - V ' t -'v '1
The Light on 73urrs!s Sronr
not rest there. It was not the .inherent,
artistic worth of the sculptured figure,
for I knew that it has never been looked
upon as a masterpiece, and that Walpole.
or somebody, called it "preposterous.
But is wan Shakespeare, and from his
eyes there shone all the wonder, . the
beauty . and the immortality of his
genius.
I am told the whole monument is
wrong in composition and in execution,
but that is merely
A fault to pardon In the drawing's lines
Its body, so to speak; it's soul is right.
Or at least it to me, and from that
moment I felt at home in "Westminster
Abbey.
Without leaving the United Stares I
could have; found a more magaificenr
statue of Shakespeare in our own libinry
of Congress, but no other representation
of him, in paint or stone, has ever por
trayed to my mind the personality of the
poet as does the Abbey monument.
I invited emotions- and they accepted
with thanks. They came in crovfds.
rushing, and soon I was unqualifiedly,
certain that I would rather be dead in
Westminster Abbey than alive out of it.
Having reached this important decision,
I broke- off my emotions at their height
and went home.
The next day, as the sunlight touched'
Burns' uplifted brow, I was th e again,
and the next, and the next.
The first impressions being comfortably
over, Shakespeare and I became very
good friends, without the necessity for
heaving breast and suppressed tears on
my part.
I had affable feelings, too, toward
many of the other great and near-great.
It amused me to learn how many suc
ceeded in getting into the -Abbey by the
mere accident of dying while there was
plenty of room.
John Gay, they tell me. is one of the
Interlopers, and his epitaph.
Life is a jest and all things show it:
I thought so once, but now I know it.
Is dubbed Irreverent.
But to my mind the irreverence is not
in the sentiment, but in the fact that it
is placed upon his tomb, the responsibil
ity therefor, even though Gay requested
it, lying with his survivors. Surely the
man who wrote "Trivia is as much en
titled to honor as many others whose
virtues are set forth in stone.
But Jf anyone Is disturbed by Gay's
Irreverence, he has only to step through
the door, which is cloe at hand, into the
little chapel of St. Faith.
For some- indefinable reason, this chap
el breathes more the spirit of reverence
say: 'I rejoice that Congress will
soon adjourn, so that I may get home.
The climate here does not agree with
me.' The women from New England
make, the same plaint, and the wives
of members from the South talk
in a similar strain. I have come
to the conclusion that it is the habit
in Washington to abuse the weather,
Just as it Is to say that Congress does
nothing right and the administration
makes for trouble instead of settling
troubles. Personally I And Washing
ton a charming city, but then home is
home and climate is not- everything
nor beautiful environment nor de
lightful people.
"My land Is the land of great" things.
We boast of our great potatoes, our mag
MRS. LEVI ANKENY.
and holiness than any other in the Ab
bey. There is no especial beauty of dec
oration here, but he who can enter the
The Ingenious Efforts of Tourists
solemn little room without putting up
the most fervent prayer of his life must
be of an unresponsive nature indeed.
It did not seem to me inharmonious to
visit the Chapels of the Sanctuary in
nificent fields of wheat, our forests pri
meval, our illustrious salmon which now
go everywhere on earth. It is our partic
ular boast that our salmon goes to Scot
land, where salmon culture was an ac
kno wled ged industry before the trees
grew which furnished timber for the cara
vels and masts of Columbus Pinta and
Santa Maria. Fishing folks and those em
ployed In the canneries are quite an im
portant factor in the commonwealth.
There are over 18.000 employed in some
capacity In the salmon industry and the
wages paid amount to more than $3,000,000
annually. All our visitors are taken fish
ing, in proper season of course, and; this
barred, they go to the hatcheries, a'nd if
they are at all piscatorial in their tastes,
they will enjoy aunique experience. Our
charge of a verger. The Abbey guide is
also a philosopher and friend. His in
toned information ts pleasantly In keep
ing with the chiselled epitaphs, and his
personality is invariably delightful; and
he so dominates the group of tourists he
conducts that they otten show signs of
almost human intelligence. The guide
answers questions not perfunctorily, but
with an air of personal interest. To be
sure, he passes lightly over many of the
most impressive figures and proudly ex
hibits the fearsome Death who jabs a
dart at Lady Nightingale, while her hus
band politely endeavors to protect her.
But after becoming acquainted with the
chapels one may return on free days
and visit, unescorted, the tomb of Sir
Francis Vere.
The Waxen Effigies goeatly took my
fancy. Hidden away in an upper room,
they are well worth the extra fee which
it costs to see them. The verger de
scribes them with a show of real affec
tion, and indeed. I felt Istrangely drawn
to the ghastly puppets, which are, un
doubtedly, very like the Kings and
Queens they represent. William and
Mary are easily lodged in a case by
-themselves, and their brocades and vel
vets and real laces are beautiful to look
tipon. though stiffened by age and dirt.
Elizabeth is a terror, and Charles the
Second a horror, but vastly fascinating
in their weird dreadfulness. Again and
again I returned to my waxen friends.
to Disguise Their Baedekers.'
and found that they gave me more his
toric atmosphere than their biographies
or tombs.
Hanging round the outsido of the Ab
bey. I one day stumbled into St. Mar
regret is that Sir Isaac Walton knew
nothing of the joy of trolling for salmon,
in the Columbia River, and of the modern
devices, the silver spoon and such like
paraphernalia. Another boast which those
pn the Pacific Coast now make is that we
are sending cod and halibut to Massachu
setts. Think of that cod to the land of
cod and halibut to the region which has
long claimed the finest fish of that vari
ety in the world. But the East has long
furnished fish food for the entire Nation.
The young West is now taking her place.
It would seem that the waters around
the Washington and Alaska coast are in
exhaustible, but we have wise and pru
dent laws for the conserving of all such
interests, and we are learning from the
experience of the older states which have
not enforced such laws."
Mrs. Ankeny married her husband when
she was just 19. The romance began on
one of those long journeys which a trip
across the continent meant some 30-odd
years ago. Miss Jennie Nesmith was re
turning home from Cincinnati, where she
had been educated at College Hill Semi
nary, at one time quite a noted seat of
learning, but now passed away like many
good things in the Queen City and other
cities. The trip was in company with her
father. Senator Nesmith, and some school
friends, and was made by way of the Isth
mus, thence by rail across 4 he Panama
strip, where a sailing boat took the party
up to the Sound. Mr. Ankeny was return
ing from the East by the same route, and
fell in love at first sight. He encountered
some difficulty in procuring an introduc
tion to the Senator's daughter, but he
finally succeeded in that and in the more
serious intentions which he had enter
tained from the first. The marriage oc
curred the following year, on October 2,
1&67, and be took his bride from the bril
liant social sphere which she occupied in
Washlngton City to the wilderness, of the
Northwest. But even in those days home
life counted more with Mrs. Ankeny than
the admiration of the crowd. She spent
only part of one season in Washington,
and then she found social existerice
meaningless, as she now declares it after
30 years experience in more absorbing du
tiei. Mrs. Ankeny possesses strong character
istics, but the love of home is predomi
nant. "I have never joined clubs and I
have not approved of suffrage for women
because it more or less invites them away
from their more sacred duties. I know all
the argument about civic purity and the
things claimed by those who advocate suf
frage for women. But I think that at
home women may work all the reforma
tion needed, locally and nationally. The
mother who trains her sons carefully in
their duties and obligations, first to their
creator and then to themselves and their
country, is making for civic reform along
the rightfully ordained lines. The wife
who impresses on her husband that she
could not love or respect a man who is
guilty of neglect or abuse of his civic ob
ligation has done a large part in eleva
ting her community much more than If
she made stump speeches and led cohorts
which wanted to charge on the ballot-box.
I have never joined a club, not even the
Congressional of Washington. This, how
ever, I intend to join, pending other con
tingencies of the future."
Senator Ankeny is up for re-election,
and a bitter fight is Imminent In his state.
Politics apart, Washington would be
sorry to lose this family, though they
have not been conspicuous In Vanity Fair.
They reside in a modest apartment in the
garet's. The window is wonderful, of
course, but I was more interested in re
membering that here Mr. Pepys married
the wife of whom he later naively chron
icled :
"She finds, with reason, that in the
company of other woman that I love, I
do not value her or mind her as I ought."
Having seen the church where Pepys
was married. I felt an Impulse to visit
the house where he died. But I was
relieved rather than otherwise to learn
that no tract of the house now remains.
And. anyway.' the house where he died
wasn't the house where he made the
pathetic entry In his Diary:
"Home. and. being wash day. dined
upon cold meat.
FREE SCHOOL
FOR CRIPPLES
AT 137 Henry street, in an imposing
f-jur-story building with a Georgian
porch and pillars of white stone, a
facade of brick and long white-framed
windows facing the south, the pupils of
the Crippled Children's East Side Free
School are welcomed every morning when
they hobble and hop or are lifted out of
their omnibus which brings them every
day from their homes.
The building is spacious, sunshiny and
Are proof, and in addition to all the ap
pointments of the usual school building it
has porcelain bothtubs, showers. an
elevator, dining-room, a roof-garden and
a "workroom."
The workroom is not yet furnished, as
the Board of Education is having the
chairs and desks made to order to suit
the peculiarities of each child. Some of
the choirs will be very low in the seat
and high in the back, some will have
oscillating backs that yield as the child
leans back or moves, others will be
placed toward the end of the desk instead
of directly in front of It. etc. thus the
child with the stiff leg, the deformed hip
or the head brace will be able to work
under the most comfortable conditions
possible.
Fine needle-work, book binding, basket
weaving and manual training are taught
in the workroom and the work done by
the boys and girls Is sold. The children
are paid hy the week the girls earning
at least SS.50 each week of live days.
These boys and girls could never earn
this amount of money by working undct
ordinary conditions.
Beautiful initial and other fine em
broidery, exquisite handsewlng and wool
crocheting is executed for the friends of
the school who place orders for such
work, and the school management solic- "
Its orders from the public, at large. So
cial meetings are held frequently, pro
viding recreation, and promoting happi
ness In lives that would otherwise be
dreary and monotonous.
The roof garden Is another fine feature
of the Institution. Here the children may
play, exercise, or study free from the
dirt, dangers and noise of the street.
Features of the daily curriculum are
rrilk-drlnklng, sun baths, tub baths, and
shower baths. A trained nurse is in at
tendance, and several doctors give their
services to the kiddies who are not be
ing regularly treated at the hospitals.
The school, which has hitherto been
conducted in a small private house at
38 Montgomery street, is indebted for Its
new home to the late Emanuel Leh
man and his family. Mr. Lehman in
tended making the gift In celebration of
his 80th birthday; the papers were be
ing prepared when he was seized with
the illness which ended his life. Philip
Lehman and his sisters generously car
ried out the plans conceived by their
father. N. T. Globe.
Highlands, and Mrs. Ankeny spends a
large part of her time directing her home.
But one of her four children is in Wash
ington, Miss Charlotte Ankeny, a tall,
handsome girl of 18, who will complete
her studies in Mrs. Somers Seminary this
June. Like her mother, she longs for the
Western life, and feels somewhat re
pressed and smothered among the con
ventionalities of the capital. "I like rid
ing where I have plenty of room," she ex
pressed ft. Miss Ankeny has decided
against a debut, even should the conven
tion prove favorable for her father's re
turn. "I think debuts senseless occasions.
There Is so much to do of more import
ance. I like to go around and meet peo
ple, but I should not like to make a bow,
as it is termed here."
There are three sons. Nesmith, the old
est, is on a ranch not far from Walla
Walla. He rafees beef cattle and some
blooded stock, and has large timber in
terests. The second son, John, is in his
father's bank at Walla Walla, and the
third. Robert, is a machinist. All are
married, and tiers of dainty little grand
children in all manner of postures adorn
the walls of the Ankeny home and share
the honors with the fish when the Senator
or his genial wife are displaying the treas
ures of the Evergreen State. In appear
ance Mrs. Ankeny Is expressive of her na
tive environment; gentle in manner and
voice, energetic in movement and the em
bodiment of hospitality and genuine good
humof.
(Copyright by Margaret B. Downing.)
THE GIORIOUS WEST.
By Emma Vest! MtHer.
O givs roe the West, with Its freedom of
mind
And Urn heart, which in Rreat its the sea;
The plains of Judea by poet enshrined.
Could have been no more pertect to m.
O, give me the salt of the balmy coast air.
Let me drink the full measure of health.
Let me feast on the viands and vintages
rare
.Enraptured am I with such wealth.
A song's In my heart and It sings of the
West
With a feeling akin to love's dream;
Just to live In this land, this land I lovs
best.
Is a happiness almost supreme.
O, give me the mft of the fog and the rain.
For whatever the elements be.
The glad sun will shine In Its beauty again.
Yes, the glorious West is for me.
O, glorious West! when the Israelite sang
Of his Caanan so long, long ago.
When the shepherd-boy's tall from his
clarion rang
From the mount to the valley below.
No richer the gifts fell from Nature's own
hand
Than the wealth she has shower'd at thy
feet
In this land of the West this new promised
land.
With its milk and Its honey-dew sweet.
The Fatal Gift of Beauty.
Lippinrott's.
The novel reader cried:
"I'm sick of the beauties of Enid and Fair,
And proudly Lady Gwendolin givs m
a pain.
Paint me a freckled -faced girl with red
hair:
Write me a novel of plain Mary Jane.
So the novelist wrote,
But the novel read:
Like roses bepowdered with gold was her
face,
A halo of flame-colored tresses had she;
Though a Duchess, she waived all her
rights to "Your Grace,"
And said, "To my lover, I'm plain Jeanns
Marie.-