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The Vagabond



19th--.Early up, and all the morning, full of whimsy, on the River's edge to lie:

"Who is more happy, when, with heart's content, Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair Of wavy grass, and reads a debonair

And gentle tale of love and languishment?"

But I no gentle tale, only G. Stein. And she, along with several other Radcliffe ones, did spoil my whole day. Bless my soul,

Is this the brain that writes a thousand lines And says a simple thought?

But not enough. By and by comes a matronly woman with a school of multi-colored children. A matronly woman came by with some brown and some white and some dirty children. I mean some of them were cute; but one was a brat! She threw stones at me; I mean she actually picked up a rock and let it go for all she was worth; and it hit me behind the ear. Behind the ear it hit me; and then the little sissy ran. I mean she hid behind the matron's skirts. It's a damn good thing. I mean I was mad would have spanked the little pickanninny's bottom. But the matron was forbidding; I mean she was a big woman. And she was kindly; that is she patted the pickanniny's head; and the little chocolate drop sobbed she was sorry. And my heart softened. I mean I actually took her for a piggy back ride; and her brown arms were tight around me; I mean she was scared. And she sniffled on my neck. I mean her warm tears still came. I mean I too was sorry; the little brat!

Thence to lunch at Eliot House. How mighty pretty is the court! And all the afternoon to row in the basin; but the blasted shell threw me. And I much vexed to lose my socks and almost my pants. And a big crowd to stop by and watch me save myself. But I, very serious, not to notice them and to pull up the shell, but bless my soul, to fall in again; and there be much laughter. Soon I to make merry too; but much vexed at my troubles; and rowed not to tell Blake.

By and by, very tired, to the Tower and to letter writing; and soon, looking at the rain to rest. I mean I simply went to bed!

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