On the train I had a very unpleasant experience, due to Sis opening my
Suitcase to look for a magazine, and drawing out a soiled gentleman's
coller. She gave me a very peircing Glance, but said nothing and at the
next opportunity I threw it out of a window, concealed in a newspaper.
We now approach the Catastrofe. My book on playwriting divides plays
into Introduction, Development, Crisis, Denouement and Catastrofe. And
so one may devide life. In my case the Cinder proved the Introduction,
as there was none other. I consider that the Suitcase was the
Development, my showing it to Jane Raleigh was the Crisis, and the
Denouement or Catastrofe occured later on.
Let us then procede to the Catastrofe.
Jane Raleigh came to see me off at the train. Her Familey was coming the
next day. And instead of Flowers, she put a small bundel into my hands.
"Keep it hiden, Bab," she said, "and tear up the card."
I looked when I got a chance, and she had crocheted me a wash cloth,
with a pink edge. "For your linen Chest," the card said, "and I'm doing
a bath towle to match."
I tore up the Card, but I put the wash cloth with the other things I
was trying to hide, because it is bad luck to throw a Gift away. But I
hoped, as I seemed to be getting more things to conceal all the time,
that she would make me a small bath towle, and not the sort as big as a
bed spread.
Father went with us to get us settled, and we had a long talk while
mother and Sis made out lists for Dinners and so forth.
"Look here, Bab," he said, "somthing's wrong with you. I seem to have
lost my only boy, and have got instead a sort of tear-y young person I
don't recognize."
"I'm growing up, father" I said. I did not mean to rebuke him, but ye
gods! Was I the only one to see that I was no longer a Child?
"Somtimes I think you are not very happy with us."
"Happy?" I pondered. "Well, after all, what is happiness?"
He took a spell of coughing then, and when it was over he put his arms
around me and was quite afectionate.
"What a queer little rat it is!" he said.
I only repeat this to show how even my father, with all his afection and
good qualities, did not understand and never would understand. My
Heart was full of a longing to be understood. I wanted to tell him my
yearnings for better things, my aspirations to make my life a great and
glorious thing. AND HE DID NOT UNDERSTAND.