Sympathy Finders.
Newspaper Reporters.
Newspaper Poets.
Authors Private.
Authors Public.
People Of The Army.
People Of The Navy.
Bohemians, Ragged As To Their Cuffs, Unkempt
As To Their Raiment.
All Classes, Shades And Conditions Of Life.
In Short, A Strange Kaleidoscopic Circle.

To be a gentleman above question is the _badge of admission_. To be
clever is the _badge of promotion_. I am the center of this
intensely interesting circle. I am the focus, the magnet around which
they all revolve. The bulk of the social burden rests on me. The minute
but highly important details are carefully watched and skillfully
righted by the good mother. I am the General Entertainer, but she is the
ameliorator of those little roughnesses, those little sharp corners
which cling even to unconventional people. Her clear, well-balanced
mind, her gentle, yet quietly positive temperament, peculiarly fit her
for this necessary but frequently neglected social work.

I am young, beautiful, untrammeled; I am full of an unlimited ambition;
I am not content with the small things of life; I will have none of
those precious morsels--mere fragments--which tempt and readily please
my sweet sisters in Vanity Fair. Young, yet I am far enough beyond
twenty to have ideas of my own. Beautiful, yet I am free from that
all-conscious air which pervades the average beauty. Untrammeled,
because men do not touch me--have not the power to rouse within me one
tender feeling. I am interested always, but I am never susceptible.
Women depend too much on their intuitions; they know so little about
human nature, and less about man-nature. An intuition is oftentimes a
safeguard to woman but more frequently a danger, because it creates
within her too much of a servile dependence upon mere impulses and first
impressions. My own intuitions are strong, but I want my knowledge to be
stronger. I want to know all there is to know about men, women, and
things. Women are usually like open books to me, easily read while
passing on to matters more interesting--men.

A man once asked me what special impression or effect I should like to
have on a man of the world who had been every where, done every thing,
seen every thing, knew every thing (or at least thought so)--in fine,
a man with the edge of every desire dulled, the glow of every passion