1918 Smith College 2: the War Weighs on Kathi
and her love for Jean is met with love in return. And the gals wear teddies!
Note — this is the second installment of Kathi's 1918 diary while at Smith College. As before, assume all folks with masculine names are girls, except for Kathi's brothers Carl and Franklin (and anyone called Mr.).
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Got up early, 6:30, and studied for French. Perfectly terrible. Furious. Honest, I think I flunked everything. Anyway, they are ancient history now. Came home exhausted. Jo came over and Barbara Foster and we lay on bed and fooled. Jean and Sally and I went to movies. Tired out. After dinner went to theater. Thank fortune exams are over.
Note — there’s that past participle usage of ‘fool’ again, ‘fooled.’ I tried to find other examples where the particle is dropped — ie, for example, ‘around’ and could only come up with one, albeit carried on with the present participle in a definition of the word (“To act in an idiotic manner; to act foolishly): 1681/1682, John Dryden, The Spanish Fryar: “Is this a time for fooling?” If intentional on Kathi’s part, I think it’s just like her to use the word archaically.
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Went downtown, felt blue as dickens. Went to movies without chaperon. Wicked.
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Got up for breakfast! Stowed away as many rolls as I could claw at. Then buzzed around and straightened up room, then sat around glaring at Connie for being so lazy and slovenly. Sat down to write in diary. Telegram from mother said Hilda was coming. Wish I were home. Honest, I do! I am no student. Have no brains. Over 65 freshman flunked out and 12 seniors. Read Fairy Queen. Sunny and I talked alone at tea.
Note — Fifty-four years later, as an English major at Washington & Lee University, I read and wrote a paper about the Fairy Queen. Got a D. I was no student, that’s for sure, at least not until I got to Columbia and even then….
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New York. Bought some cakes and dressed for dinner in green dress, gold slippers. Went to Biltmore for dinner and danced with Bill and Mr. Dubey. Mr. D is a divine dancer. Crazy about his dancing. He was nice, too. Had a slick time.
Note — This is the beginning of the Kathi wit coming into play. “He was nice, too.” So damn funny and such a sly way to let her feelings about Mr. D be known. I’m sure she’d rather all her dances were with Bill, aka Billy, who is, in fact, a woman. Actually, as I believe I’ve said before, lots of Kathi’s female friends go by men’s names: Dick, Hank, Henry, Mark, many others. Was this entirely common at the time? Wish I knew.
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Snowing like everything. Bill and I went to see parade in p.m. 1,000 drafted men. British tank. I walked up to Columbus Circle, 30 blocks, and rode back on bus. In p.m., Bill and Mr Rincon from China took us to the Plaza. Dancing divine. Gladys and I went to see Lori Laurette Taylor in Happiness. Adorable. Sweet. Just the kind to delight one.
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Gladys and I went to Knox's to fix my hat. Bought three skirts. Gladys and I had lunch at Mary Elizabeth. Put on blue taffeta and little brown hat. Had dinner. Met Bill and Mr Killian and Lieutenant Walt O'Brien. Friends. And went to see Emily Stevens in Madonna of the Future. Perfectly terrible.
Note — from Google: “The heroine of Madonna of the Future is a very rich young woman, unencumbered with relatives, who desires to become a mother but does not desire to be saddled with a husband. In consequence of her convictions, she picks out an apparently eugenic mate and becomes, in due time, the mother of a nameless child. New York Chief Magistrate William McAdoo received a number of complaints. He wrote to the theater’s lawyers telling them that, if the issue arose in court, he would have to declare the play obscene.” Wow. Pretty racy for 1918, don’t you think?
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Slept until 11:30. Got up and did French and psych. Gladys and I had lunch and breakfast together. Got dressed and went to Mrs. Coffins’ for tea. Met Dana Gatlin. Mr. Elliott, wrote Long Trail. Mr. Fisk, composer. Julian Street, author. Crazy about Dana Gatlin. Charming tea. I was silent with awe. Gladys and I rode home on a bus. Had sandwich. Walter telephoned, wanted me to go to tea. Gladys went and met all those people.
Note — from Google: “Dana Gatlin was a reporter and feature writer for the New York Sun, published many short stories and articles for Unity School of Christianity, wrote several books and also appeared in many magazines of her day.” She was the author of God is the Answer: https://www.amazon.com/God-Answer-Dana-Gatlin/dp/B000MZMB5A.”
By the by, does anyone besides me think it possibly significant that most of the actors/actresses Kathi mentions are women and that others she mentions (outside college friends) are mainly women, too? And that she’s often “crazy” about them?
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Smith. Rose at 6:00. After a rather rough journey, lugged my big trunk up over bridge in station and ensconced self in day coach. Taxied home. Room looks fresh and pure. Went to classes. Miss Richards roped me into gym. Jo and I went downtown for a while. Took Stick some ice cream. Read English. Then to appointment in spoken English. Did French sentences. Afterward, I ran up to Dippy Hill. Stopped in at 13 to talk to Jean and Nat. Ran for home. Jo and Rachel Arratt and I walked out past Connecticut Bridge. Sunny and springy. Stopped for tea at Rose Tree Inn. Sat in front of fire and gossiped. Went to Elms for dinner. Want to go to Jean's.
Note — for much more on the Rose Tree Inn, a controversial place at the time, see here for a delightful essay about its free-thinking owner: Wickedtowedded on the Rose Tree Inn
Dippy Hill was actually called Hospital Hill, and at the top of it sat the Northampton State Hospital, formerly known as the Northampton Insane Hospital, hence the ‘dippy’ designation. Thanks go to Kaymarion Raymond, from the Wicked blog cited above, for this wonderful tidbit.
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Came home with Jo and fooled around. Packed up teddies for Kay Nelson and Esther and wrote some letters. Franklin is at Fort Hill. Oh, dear, I hope this means he will be an instructor and stay here. Helen and Lib and I took a long walk on highway beyond Smith's Ferry. Slush. On way back, truck picked us up. Nicest man. Went over to 13. Dressed up like maid and went downstairs.
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Did French most of the p.m. Read ec and psychology in library. Ran down to Paradise Lake. Beautiful wintry sunset. Black pines and white snow. Ran hard and got blood raging. Whole house upset by 10 girls resigning from Phi Kappa. Heard second floor hates third floor. Too bad. I like the second floor girls. Helen McClure and Jean and I went to movies. Marguerite Clark. Sunny letter from Franklin.
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Studied English. Read letters from a French Soldier. Cast me down. Casualty list has come in. I'm so sick at heart. Our dear soldiers! I've decided to join mechanics class. Wrote mother and Franklin.
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March 5. Got my card. 6 hour deficiency. Feel awful about it. So ashamed. I'm going to work all the rest of this semester. Honest! Got letter from mother telling me life is serious now and off with the fun. Went over to Jean's and studied psych. I love Jean. She said she loved me too.
Note — now, we could debate the meaning of the word ‘love’ as Kathi uses it here: romantic, purely affectionate, nascent enduring, playful, familial and so forth. But what nearly seals the deal for me — romantic — is not what Kathi says to Jean but what Jean says in return — that she loves Kathi, too — and that Kathi thinks it important to make specific note of this fact. As well, of course, are her earlier references to Jean, most especially the one seen below.